olution 


Philosophy 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
AT  LOS  ANGELES 


GIFT  OF  CAPT.  AND  MRS. 
PAUL  MCBRIDE  PERIGORD 


(T?tfTVFT?S!TY  of  CALIFORNIA 


EVOLUTION 

IN    SCIENCE,  PHILOSOPHY, 
AND    ART 


EVOLUTION 


IN    SCIENCE,  PHILOSOPHY, 
ART 


POPULAR  LECTURES  AND  DISCUSSIONS 

BEFORE  THE 
BROOKLYN  ETHICAL  ASSOCIATION 


NEW  YORK 

D-  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY 
1891 


145617 


COPYRIGHT,  1891, 
BY  THE  BROOKLYN  ETHICAL  ASSOCIATION. 


PEEFACE. 


THE  doctrine  of  Evolution,  representing  as  it  does  Nature's  uniform 
method  whereby  all  progressive  changes  are  accomplished,  whether  in 
Physics,  Biology,  Psychology,  Sociology,  or  Ethics,  is  susceptible  of 
an  infinite  variety  of  expository  illustrations.  The  present  volume, 
which  is  the  natural  successor  of  previous  courses  of  lectures  before  the 
Brooklyn  Ethical  Association  on  Evolution  and  Sociology,  exemplifies 
the  workings  of  this  universal  law  in  some  of  the  special  departments 
of  Science,  Philosophy,  and  Art. 

The  seventeen  lectures  herewith  presented  may  be  naturally  segre- 
gated under  these  several  heads.  To  the  department  of  Science  be- 
longs the  able  exposition  and  critique  of  the  contributions  of  Alfred 
Russel  Wallace,  the  co-discoverer  with  Charles  Darwin  of  the  law  of 
Natural  Selection,  to  the  doctrine  of  Evolution,  by  our  foremost  Amer- 
ican biologist,  Prof.  Edward  D.  Cope,  together  with  the  monographs 
on  the  evolution  of  Chemistry,  Electric  and  Magnetic  Physics,  Botany, 
Zoology,  and  Optics,  and  Mr.  Potts's  interesting  discussion  of  the  devel- 
opment of  Form  and  Color  in  Nature. 

To  the  department  of  Philosophy  may  properly  be  assigned  the  ex- 
position of  the  life,  work,  and  philosophical  system  of  Prof.  Ernst 
Haeckel,  the  eminent  German  evolutionist,  in  the  lecture  of  Mr.  Wake- 
man  and  the  appended  discussion,  Dr.  Abbot's  exposition  of  The  Sci- 
entific Method,  Mr.  Underwood's  able  presentation  of  the  principles  of 
Herbert  Spencer's  Synthetic  Philosophy.  Dr.  Janes's  application  of 
the  philosophy  of  Evolution  to  the  Art  of  Life,  and  the  noteworthy 
discussion  of  The  Doctrine  of  Evolution,  its  Scope  and  Influence,  by 
Prof.  John  Fiske,  our  ablest  American  exponent  of  this  doctrine  in  its 
ethical  and  philosophical  aspects.  The  final  outcome  of  these  lectures 
constitutes,  it  is  believed,  a  complete  refutation  of  the  charge  of  ma- 
terialism  sometimes  unjustly  made  against  Mr.  Spencer  and  the  whole 
modern  school  of  evolutionists.  This  is  a  matter  of  great  interest  and 
profound  significance,  to  which  we  commend  the  thoughtful  attention 
of  the  reader  and  reviewer. 


vi  Preface. 

All  lovers  of  art  will  be  glad  to  read  the  lectures  on  The  Evolution 
of  Art,  of  Architecture,  Sculpture,  Painting,  and  Music,  wherein  the 
progress  of  art  in  general  and  of  these  special  arts  has  been  traced  by 
able  and  sympathetic  pens.  Though  aware  of  many  gaps  and  imper- 
fections in  the  discussion  of  themes  so  vast  and  various,  it  is  believed 
that  the  average  merit  of  these  lectures  as  a  whole  is  fully  up  to  the 
standard  of  previous  years ;  and  it  is  confidently  hoped  that  they  will 
prove  wisely  educational,  stimulating,  and  suggestive  to  thoughtful 
and  inquiring  minds. 

The  important  bearing  of  many  of  the  topics  herein  treated  on 
human  life  has  also  been  constantly  borne  in  mind,  with  a  view  to 
giving  to  these  discussions  a  value  not  merely  speculative,  but  also 
practical  and  useful. 


CONTENTS. 


Preface, 


ALFRED  EUSSEL  WALLACE, 3 

His  life  and  work ;  his  relations  with  Darwin  and  to  the  doctrine 
of  evolution ;  his  defense  of  Darwinism ;  his  scientific  discov- 
eries ;  his  religious  and  philosophical  views. 

BY  EDWARD  D.  COPE,  PH.  D. 


ERNST  HAECKEL, 21 

His  life  and  work ;  his  contributions  to  biology  and  embryology ; 
his  discussion  with  Prof.  Virchow  on  Freedom  in  Science  and 
Teaching ;  his  religious  and  philosophical  opinions. 

BY  THADDEUS  B.  WAKEMAN. 


THE  SCIENTIFIC  METHOD, *  61 

The  difference  between  knowledge  and  ignorance;  how  knowl- 
edge is  obtained ;  the  logical  tendencies  of  idealism ;  hypothe- 
sis with  verification  the 'true  method;  the  consensus  of  the 
competent. 

BY  FRANCIS  ELLINGWOOD  ABBOT,  PH.  D. 


HERBERT  SPENCER'S  SYNTHETIC  PHILOSOPHY,     .    .    85 

Its  historical  antecedents ;  the  relation  of  Spencer  to  Hume  and 
Kant ;  his  synthesis  of  transcendentalism  with  experientialism ; 
his  doctrine  of  "  transfigured  realism  " ;  his  views  not  material- 
istic. 

BY  BENJAMIN  F.  UNDERWOOD. 


THE  EVOLUTION  OF  CHEMISTRY, 125 

Its  relation  to  alchemy ;  notable  contributors  to  its  progress ; 
how  it  illustrates  the  doctrine  of  evolution ;  the  atomic  theory ; 
relation  of  chemistry  to  common  life. 

BY  DR.  EGBERT  G.  ECCLES. 


viii  Contents. 

THE    EVOLUTION"    OF    ELECTKIC    AND    MAGNETIC 
PHYSICS, 153 

Growth  and  history  of  this  science ;  electricity  and  magnetism ; 
their  contributions  to  human  welfare ;  the  future  of  this  sci- 
ence ;  how  it  illustrates  evolutionary  principles. 

BY  ARTHUR  E.  KENNELLY. 

THE  EVOLUTION  OF  BOTANY, 173 

Its  early  and  later  history ;  notable  names  of  its  expositors ;  its 
relation  to  medical  science ;  its  contributions  to  human  wel- 
fare ;  how  it  illustrates  the  principles  of  evolution. 

BY  FREDERICK  J.  WULLING,  PH.  G. 

THE  EVOLUTION  OF  ZOOLOGY, 203 

Its  pre-eminent  place  under  evolution  and  as  including  man; 
why  it  was  necessary  to  have  the  brutes  for  our  ancestors ;  in 
them  the  foundations  of  body,  mind,  and  soul ;  this  inheritance 
in  us  to  be  respected  ;  our  duties  toward  animals ;  philanthro- 
py to  widen  into  philzoony. 

BY  REV.  JOHN  C.  KIMBALL. 

FOKM   AND    COLOK   IN"  N~ATUKE,     .      .     • 235 

The  physiology  of  sense-perception;  nature  of  light  and  color; 

warning  and  protective  coloration ;  fertilization  of  plants  by 

insects ;  morphological  evidences  of  evolution. 

BY  WILLIAM  POTTS. 

THE  EVOLUTION"  OF  OPTICS, 263 

History  and  growth  of  the  science;  the  phenomena  of  vision; 
evolution  of  the  eye;  the  eye  as  an  optical  instrument;  its 
structural  modifications  in  different  animals ;  defects  of  vision ; 
evolution  of  the  color-sense. 

BY  DR.  L.  A.  W.  ALLEMAN,  M.  A. 

THE  EVOLUTION  OF  AKT, 297 

Changing  ideals  of  art  in  different  ages  and  as  related  to  differ- 
ent stages  of  culture ;  relations  of  art  to  civilization ;  to  natu- 
ral science ;  to  morals ;  to  religion. 

BY  JOHN  A.  TAYLOR. 

THE  EVOLUTION"  OF  AECHITECTUKE, 321 

Architecture  of  prehistoric  races ;  of  Egypt  and  Greece ;  of  the 
middle  ages  and  the  renaissance ;  origin  of  Gothic  architect- 
ure ;  evolutionary  phases  of  the  art ;  Are  we  to  have  an  Amer- 
ican type  of  architectural  development  I 

BY  REV.  JOHN  W.  CHADWICK. 


Contents.  ix 

THE  EVOLUTION  OF  SCULPTURE, 345 

Characteristics  of  different  periods;  Egyptian  and  Assyrian 
types;  Greek  and  Roman  sculpture;  place  of  the  art  in  the 
evolution  of  man's  psychic  nature. 

BY  THOMAS  DAVIDSON. 

THE  EVOLUTION  OF  PAINTING, 363 

Its  earlier  and  later  phases ;  history  of  the  art ;  its  leading  repre- 
sentatives ;  its  growth  hampered  and  encouraged  by  religion ; 
its  relation  to  culture  and  morality. 

BY  FOEEEST  P.   RUNDELL. 


THE  EVOLUTION  OF  Music, 385 

Subjective  nature  of  the  art;  development  of  melody;  ethnic 
contributions  to  the  art;  development  of  harmony  and  poly- 
phony ;  the  melodic-polyphonic  stage ;  music's  wonderful  dem- 
onstration of  the  law  of  evolution. 

BY  Z.  SIDNEY  SAMPSON. 


LIFE  AS  A  FINE  ART, 407 

The  art  of  right  living ;  empirical,  scientific,  and  artistic  or  phi- 
losophical ideals  in  the  government  of  life ;  these  ideals  tested 
by  the  principles  of  evolution ;  their  true  ethical  significance. 
BY  DE.  LEWIS  G.  JANES. 

THE  DOCTRINE  OF  EVOLUTION  :  ITS  SCOPE  AND  IN- 
FLUENCE,       435 

New  method  of  writing  history;  modern  conceptions  of  space 
and  time  relations ;  the  new  astronomy  and  geology ;  zoology 
and  embryology ;  contributions  of  Darwin  and  Spencer  to  the 
doctrine ;  Herbert  Spencer  its  true  father ;  growth  of  the  con- 
ception in  his  mind;  alleged  materialism  of  his  philosophy 
refuted.  ' 

BY  JOHN  FISKE,  M.  A. 

Index,  .  467 


ALFRED  EUSSEL  WALLACE 


EDWARD  D.  COPE,  PH.D. 

AUTHOR  OF  ORIGIN  OP  THE  FITTEST,  THE  DESCENT  OF  MAN,  ETC. 


COLLATERAL  READINGS  RECOMMENDED: 

Biographical  sketches  of  Alfred  Russel  Wallace,  in  American  Cyclo- 
paedia and  Popular  Science  Monthly ;  Huxley's  Evolution,  in  Encyclo- 
paedia Britannica,  and  article  Evolution,  in  American  Cyclopaedia; 
Wallace's  Contribution  to  the  Theory  of  Natural  Selection,  Island 
Life,  Tropical  Nature,  Malay  Archipelago,  Geographical  Distribution 
of  Plants  and  Animals,  Bad  Times,  A  Defense  of  Modern  Spiritualism, 
and  If  a  Man  die  shall  he  live  again  ? ;  Wallace  and  Dyer's  The  Distri- 
bution of  Life. 


ALFRED   UUSSEL  WALLACE. 


ALFRED  RUSSEL  WALLACE,  LL.  D. 

BY  E.  D.  COPE. 

ALFRED  KUSSEL  WALLACE  was  born  at  Usk,  Monmouth- 
shire, in  England,  in  the  year  1822,  and  he  is  therefore  at 
present  in  his  sixty-ninth  year.  As  I  saw  Mr.  Wallace  in 
London  in  1863,  and  in  America  in  1889,  I  can  speak  of  his 
appearance  "from  autopsy."  He  is  above  medium  height, 
not  of  stout  build,  and  with  a  slight  stoop  of  the  shoulders. 
His  head  is  neither  long  nor  short,  and  the  face  is  rather 
round  than  long.  The  forehead  is  fuller  at  the  base  than 
at  the  summit,  and  prominent  eyebrows  overhang  eyes  which 
have  a  vivacious  twinkle.  The  mouth  is  large  and  amiable, 
and  is  surrounded  by  a  full  beard.  The  complexion  is  pale, 
and  the  expression  is  a  combination  of  bonhommie  and  open 
honesty  of  character. 

Dr.  Wallace's  prominence  as  a  teacher  of  biology  is  not 
due  to  original  researches  in  paleontology  or  embryology, 
or  extended  papers  in  comparative  anatomy ;  but  it  rests  on 
his  extensive  investigation  of  living  beings  in  their  mutual 
relations  in  actual  life.  This  science,  which  has  been  termed 
hexicology,  owes  its  most  important  development  to  his  la- 
bors, and  to  those  of  his  contemporary,  Charles  Darwin.  It 
is  only  possible  to  pursue  it  on  an  extended  scale  by  the 
observation  of  Nature  under  many  aspects  in  many  regions, 
and  it  is  therefore  desirable  that  its  cultivators  shall  be  trav- 
elers. Such  have  been  both  Mr.  Darwin  and  Mr.  Wallace. 
Mr.  Wallace's  explorations  have  been  principally  in  the  trop- 
ics of  both  hemispheres.  In  1848  he  visited  the  Amazon 
and  some  of  its  tributaries,  where  he  remained  four  years. 
He  made  extensive  collections  in  zoology  during  this  time, 
but  they  were  most  unfortunately  burned  in  the  vessel  in 
which  he  was  making  the  return  voyage.  He  published  an 
account  of  his  observations  in  a  popular  book,  which  I  read 
as  a  boy  with  great  interest.  He  also  published  a  brief 
account  of  the  palms  of  the  Amazons. 

In  1854  Dr.  Wallace  visited  the  Malaysian  Islands,  where 
he  remained  eight  years.  The  collections  and  observations 
which  he  made  during  this  exploration  gave  him  occupation 


4  Alfred  Russel  Wallace,  LL.  D. 

for  many  years  after  his  return.  His  collections  were  espe- 
cially important  in  ornithology  and  entomology,  and  his  ob- 
serrations  brought  to  light  many  new  facts  in  the  life-history 
of  animals  of  all  branches.  Among  a  multitude  of  new 
species  discovered  by  him  I  only  mention  now  the  beautiful 
and  chastely  colored  paradise-bird  from  New  Guinea,  the 
Semioptera  wattacei  Scl.  When  on  the  Amazon,  Wallace 
had  the  opportunity  of  verifying  and  extending  the  observa- 
tions of  Bates  on  the  remarkable  phenomenon  of  mimetic 
analogy  presented  by  the  Lepidoptera  of  that  region.  In 
Malaysia  he  discovered  many  equally  striking  examples  of 
the  same  thing.  He  observed  not  only  cases  of  mimetism 
between  living  species  of  insects,  but  also  wonderful  mim- 
icry of  inanimate  objects  and  plants  by  living  animals.  His 
studies  of  the  variations  of  species  by  this  time  led  him  to 
formulate  a  theory  to  account  for  their  origin  and  persist- 
ence identical  with  that  given  to  the  world  by  Mr.  Darwin 
under  the  name  of  Natural  Selection. 

Dr.  Wallace's  first  statement  of  this  theory  was  contained 
in  a  letter  to  Mr.  Darwin,  written  at  Ternate  in  1858.  This 
letter  was  afterwards  published  in  the  Proceedings  of  the 
Linnsean  Society  of  London  for  1859  (read  August,  1858), 
under  the  title  On  the  Tendency  of  Varieties  to  depart  in- 
definitely from  the  Original  Type,  in  conjunction  with  two 
papers  on  the  same  subject  by  Mr.  Darwin.  The  letter  was 
shown  to  Sir  Charles  Lyell  and  to  Dr.  Joseph  D.  Hooker, 
who  were  familiar  with  the  views  of  Mr.  Darwin  on  the 
same  subject.  Mr.  Darwin  had  written  a  paper  as  early  as 
1844,  in  which  essentially  the  same  views  were  propounded, 
which  had  been  read  to  Dr.  Hooker,  but  which  had  never 
been  published.  A  letter  containing  the  same  general  views 
had  been  also  written  by  Mr.  Darwin  to  Dr.  Asa  Gray  in 
1857.  These  two  papers  were  published  in  connection  with 
Mr  Wallace's  letter  in  the  Proceedings  of  the  Linnaean  So 
ciety,  as  above  mentioned,  by  Sir  Charles  Lyell  and  Dr.  J.  D. 
Hooker.  Dr.  Wallace's  paper  endeavors  to  demonstrate  the 
evolution  of  species  in  ordinary  descent  by  the  action  of 
two  factors :  First,  that  species  tend  naturally  to  produce 
varieties  or  variations  of  character  ;  and,  second,  that  if  any 
of  these  variations  or  varieties  present  superior  advantages 
in  the  struggle  for  existence  over  those  possessed  by  its 
parent,  it  will  separate  or  replace  the  latter,  thus  accom- 
plishing the  introduction  of  a  new  form  or  species  in  place 
of  the  old  one.  He  cites  among  his  various  illustrations  the 


Alfred  Russel  Wallace,  LL.  D.  5 

following :  "  Even  the  peculiar  colors  of  many  animals,  es- 
pecially insects  so  closely  resembling  the  soil  or  the  leaves 
or  trunks  on  which  they  habitually  reside,  are  explained  on 
the  same  principle,  for  though  in  the  course  of  ages  varieties 
of  many  tints  may  have  occurred,  yet  those  races  having 
colors  best  adapted  for  concealment  from  their  enemies 
would  inevitably  survive  the  longest." 

The  way  in  which  Mr.  Darwin  reached  the  same  result 
in  his  letter  of  1844,  above  mentioned,  is  slightly  different 
only  in  being  a  little  more  comprehensive,  as  it  includes  one 
more  factor — viz.,  the  necessarily  enormous  increase  of  ani- 
mals and  plants  by  reproduction  and  the  consequent  sever- 
ity of  the  struggle  for  existence.  He  applies  the  Malthusian 
idea  to  the  lower  creation,  and  shows  how  that  any  one  of 
the  numerous  species  which  exist  would  soon  fill  the  earth 
were  not  checks  present  on  every  hand  which  only  permit 
the  survival  of  those  individuals  which  possess  exceptional 
facilities  for  success  in  the  pursuit  of  subsistence.  In  this 
way  profitable  variations  of  structure  have  survived  and  been 
perpetuated ;  in  other  words,  new  species  have  originated 
and  continued.  The  two  papers  by  Drs.  Darwin  and  Wal- 
lace embrace  all  the  factors  involved  in  the  process  of  natu- 
ral selection.  Later  elucidation  of  the  doctrines  of  these 
two  able  expositors,  and  by  others  subsequently,  have  con- 
vinced thoughtful  persons  that  it  is  an  expression  of  a  great 
fact  of  the  evolution  of  life.  Its  acceptance  has  been  gen- 
eral, and  the  impetus  given  to  research  and  to  thought  has 
been  great. 

In  the  acceptance  of  the  doctrine  of  natural  selection 
the  public  has  often  confused  it  with  the  general  doctrine 
of  the  evolution  of  animals  by  descent,  of  which  natural  se- 
lection is  an  explanation.  The  general  doctrine  of  descent 
is  as  old  as  human  thought,  but  it  awaited  the  expositions 
of  Darwin  and  Wallace  before  receiving  general  acceptance. 
Even  the  authority  of  Lamarck,  who  formulated  it  a  half- 
century  previously,  was  not  sufficient  to  gain  credence  for  it. 
Lamarck's  principal  explanation  of  the  process,  the  change 
.of  structure  through  use  and  disuse,  lacked  the  necessary 
evidence,  and,  although  he  taught  the  law  of  natural  selec- 
tion as  a  corollary,  it  did  not  compel  assent  as  did  the  mas- 
terly presentation  of  Darwin  and  Wallace. 

Dr.  Wallace's  first  book  on  evolution  was  published  in 
1870,  and  was  entitled  Contributions  to  the  Theory  of  Natu- 
ral Selection.  This  work  contains  the  germs  of  all  of  his 


8  Alfred  Russel  Wallace,  LL.  D. 

In  1878  Dr.  Wallace  published  his  two  volumes  On  the 
Geographical  Distribution  of  Animals.  His  original  re- 
searches on  the  distribution  of  animals  in  the  Malaysian 
Archipelago  furnished  the  starting  point  of  this  work.  It 
is  an  excellent  general  exposition  of  the  subject,  which  has, 
however,  from  the  nature  of  the  case,  become  in  some 
points  superannuated.  The  systematic  relations  of  many 
groups  of  animals  are  now  better  understood  than  they 
were  then,  and  paleontology  has  made  great  advances  be- 
yond the  state  of  knowledge  recorded  in  this  work.  In 
1878  the  work  of  a  popular  character  on  Tropical  Nature 
appeared.  His  book  on  Island  Life  was  published  in  1880. 
Here  we  have  a  discussion  of  the  faunae  of  islands,  a  very 
fertile  subject  in  the  evidence  it  contributes  to  questions  of 
distribution  in  past  and  present  time,  and  in  the  restricted, 
and  therefore  more  comprehensible,  fields  which  it  offers  for 
the  solution  of  questions  of  subsistence,  selection,  etc.  He 
here  brings  into  final  order  the  evidence  as  to  the  primitive 
separation  of  the  Oriental  and  Australian  faunae  which  now 
approach  each  other  so  closely  in  the  Malaysian  Islands. 
He  found  during  his  residence  in  Malaysia  that  the  islands 
of  the  respective  groups  were  separated  from  each  other  by 
comparatively  shallow  seas,  while  a  deep  channel  divides  the 
two  groups  as  a  whole  from  each  other.  This  channel, 
which  passes  between  Celebes  and  Borneo  at  the  northwest, 
and  Lombok  and  Bally  at  the  southwest,  is  known  as  Wal- 
lace's Channel.  The  fauna  of  Celebes  is,  however,  some- 
what intermediate  in  possessing  some  types  of  both  faunas. 

In  1889  Dr.  Wallace's  last  work,  Darwinism,  appeared. 
In  this  book  he  summarizes  the  facts  and  inferences  which 
bear  on  evolution.  As  before,  natural  selection  is  regard- 
ed as  the  leading  factor  in  structural  evolution.  The  sub- 
jects treated  of  are  arranged  in  the  following  order :  Chap- 
ter I.  What  are  Species,  and  what  is  meant  by  their  Ori- 
gin. II.  The  Struggle  for  Existence.  III.  The  Variability 
of  Species  in  a  State  of  Nature.  IV.  Variations  of  Domes- 
tic Animals  and  Cultivated  Plants.  V.  Natural  Selection 
by  Variation  and  Survival  of  the  Fittest.  VI.  Difficulties 
and  Objections.  VII.  Infertility  of  Crosses  between  Dis- 
tinct Species,  and  the  Usual  Sterility  of  Hybrids.  VIII. 
The  Origin  and  Uses  of  Color  in  Animals.  IX.  Warning 
Coloration  and  Mimicry.  X.  Colors  and  Ornaments  Char- 
acteristic of  Sex.  XI.  Special  Colors  of  Plants,  their  Ori- 
gin and  Purpose.  XII.  The  Geographical  Distribution 


Alfred  Russel  Wallace,  LL.  D.  9 

of  Organisms.  XIII.  The  Geological  Evidence  of  Evolution. 
XIV." Fundamental  Problems  in  Relation  to  Variation  and 
Heredity.  XV.  Darwinism  as  applied  to  Man.  XVL  Criti- 
cisms. "XVII.  Forces  other  than  Natural  Selection. 

The  scope  of  Darwinism  is  wider  than  that  of  any  of 
Wallace's  previous  books,  and  he  gives  attention  to  the 
voluminous  literature  which  had  grown  up  during  the  in- 
terval which  had  elapsed  since  his  first  general  synopsis 
published  in  1870.  The  most  important  part  of  the  book 
is  the  large  portion  which  is  devoted  to  the  nature  and  uses 
of  colors  in  animals  and  plants.  In  this  field  "Wallace's 
original  contributions  both  to  fact  and  theory  are  very  in- 
teresting and  valuable.  His  chapter  on  the  geological  (i.  e., 
paleontological)  evidence  of  evolution  was  hardly  up  to 
the  times,  as  the  American  work  had  not  sufficiently  at- 
tracted his  attention  at  the  time  of  his  writing.  In  his 
criticisms  of  Spencer,  Cope,  Semper,  and  Geddes  he  denies 
the  efficacy  of  the  Lamarckian  factors  use  and  disuse,  and 
the  direct  effect  of  the  environment  on  organic  structure, 
but  accounts  for  all  variations  in  the  latter  by  natural  selec- 
tion. Thus  Cope  had  endeavored  to  explain  the  origin  of 
the  divergence  of  the  diplarthrous  ungulate  mammalia  by 
supposing  that  the  even- toed  line  (Artiodactyla)  were  pro- 
duced by  walking  in  muddy  ground,  which  spreads  the  toes 
equally  in  all  directions,  while  the  odd-toed  (Perissodactyla) 
have  descended  from  forms  that  walked  on  dry  ground,  so 
that  the  stimulus  of  impact  and  strain  was  felt  by  the  long- 
est toe,  which  was  accordingly  developed  at  the  expense  of 
the  others,  thus  producing  the  horse.  Dr.  Wallace  says 
that  such  an  explanation  is  not  proved,  and  is  unnecessary, 
since  it  is  evident  that  it  was  only  necessary  for  variation 
in  these  two  directions  to  have  appeared  to  have  been  at 
once  taken  advantage  of  by  natural  selection.  The  odd- 
toed  type,  being  best  adapted  for  progress  on  hard  ground, 
would  survive,  and  the  even- toed  be  eliminated ;  while  the 
reverse  process  would  take  place  among  the  types  that  in- 
habited soft  places.  To  the  general  proposition  involved 
in  this  explanation  I  will  return ;  but  will  only  say  now,  in 
passing,  that  Dr.  Wallace  does  not  thus  explain  the  origin 
of  the"  two  variations  in  question ;  nor  is  it  certain  that, 
having  once  originated,  the  even-toed  is  not  quite  as  effect- 
ive as  the  odd-toed  for  rapid  progress  on  hard  ground. 

In  his  Chapter  XV,  Wallace  again  expresses  his  dissatis- 
faction with  natural  selection  as  an  explanation  of  the 


10  Alfred  Russel  Wallace,  LL.  D. 

origin  of  the  human  mind;  and  from  this  standpoint  he 
takes  a  retrospect  of  the  forces  of  creation  in  general.  He 
says :  "  These  three  distinct  stages  (life,  consciousness,  and 
intellect)  of  progress  from  the  inorganic  world  of  matter 
and  motion  up  to  man  point  clearly  to  an  unseen  universe, 
to  a  world  of  spirit,  to  which  the  world  of  matter  is  alto- 
gether subordinate.  To  this  spiritual  world  we  may  refer 
the  marvelously  complex  forces  which  we  know  as  gravita- 
tion, cohesion,  chemical  force,  radiant  force,  and  electricity, 
without  which  the  material  universe  would  not  exist  for  a 
moment  in  its  present  form,  and  perhaps  not  at  all,  since 
without  these  forces,  and  perhaps  others  which  may  be 
termed  atomic,  it  is  doubtful  whether  matter  itself  could 
have  any  existence.  And  still  more  surely  can  we  refer  to 
it  those  progressive  manifestations  of  life  in  the  vegetable 
and  the  animal,  and  man,  which  we  may  classify  as  uncon- 
scious consciousness  and  intellectual  life,  and  which  proba- 
bly depend  upon  different  degrees  of  spiritual  influx.  I 
have  shown  that  this  involves  no  necessary  infraction  of  the 
law  of  continuity  in  physical  or  mental  evolution,  whence 
it  follows  that  any  difficulty  we  may  find  in  discriminating 
the  organic  from  the  inorganic,  the  lower  vegetable  from 
the  lower  animal  organisms,  or  the  higher  animals  from  the 
lowest  types  of  man,  has  no  bearing  on  the  question.  This 
is  to  be  decided  by  showing  that  a  change  in  essential  na- 
ture (due  probably  to  causes  of  a  higher  order  than  those  of 
the  material  universe)  took  place  at  the  several  stages  of 
progress  which  I  have  indicated — a  change  which  may  be 
none  the  less  real  because  absolutely  imperceptible  at  its 
point  of  origin,  as  is  the  change  which  takes  place  in  the 
curve  in  which  a  body  is  moving  where  the  application  of 
some  new  force  causes  the  curve  to  be  slightly  altered." 

Dr.  Wallace,  like  other  lovers  of  his  kind,  has  interested 
himself  in  some  questions  of  political  economy,  and  has 
written  on  Land  Nationalization  (1882)  and  on  Bad  Times, 
an  Essay  on  the  Depression  of  Trade  (1885).  He  also  wrote 
a  book  in  opposition  to  vaccination  in  1885.  He  is  known 
to  be  a  believer  in  the  verity  of  some  of  the  phenomena  of 
Spiritualism  or  Spiritism,  and  was  a  coadjutor  of  Prof. 
Crookes  in  the  conduct  of  some  of  his  experiments  in  this 
field.  Without  being  a  Swedenborgian,  he  is  an  adherent 
of  one  of  the  leading  tenets  of  the  founder  of  that  body— viz., 
of  the  influx,  upon  man  at  least,  of  an  influence  from  with- 
out him,  from  a  personal  spiritual  source. 


Alfred  Russel  Wallace,  LL.  D.  11 

In  reviewing  the  work  of  Dr.  Wallace  one  can  assert  that 
it  furnishes  an  admirable  illustration  of  the  intelligent  spirit 
which  is  rife  in  the  Indo-European  of  the  nineteenth  cent- 
ury. The  desire  and  the  determination  to  know  is  its  actu- 
uating  motive,  and  the  good  of  mankind  is  its  ostensible 
end.  It  is  sustained  by  the  faith  that  knowledge  can  not 
harm  us,  but  that  it  is,  on  the  other  hand,  necessary  for  our 
safe  conduct  through  time,  both  as  individuals  and  as  a  race. 
The  labors  undertaken  with  this  end  in  view  have  been 
many  and  arduous,  and  Dr.  Wallace's  illustrate  this  aspect 
of  the  times  as  much  as  those  of  any  other  man.  His  work 
is  a  life  labor  conducted  with  persevering  consistency  to  at- 
tain a  definite  result.  His  life  is  an  excellent  illustration  of 
his  own  doctrine,  that  all  force  is  will-force.  The  utility  of 
his  life  is  self-evident,  and  the  effects  of  it  on  human  thought, 
and  therefore  on  human  action,  will  remain  as  long  as  man- 
kind thinks  and  acts. 

As  regards  the  position  occupied  by  Dr.  Wallace  among 
the  architects  of  our  knowledge  of  the  doctrine  of  evolution, 
I  do  not  hesitate  to  say  that,  like  that  of  his  great  coadjutor 
Darwin,  he  has  occupied  himself  with  a  part  only  of  the 
work.  Like  the  builder  engaged  on  one  side  of  a  building, 
he  has  been  so  attracted  and  impressed  by  the  rich  materials 
ready  to  his  hand  that  he  has  not  given  heed  to  the  other 
side  of  the  edifice ;  and  the  higher  he  has  builded,  the  less 
has  he  been  able  to  see  the  hidden  portions.  This  is  natu- 
ral, and  perhaps  beneficial,  for  had  he  seen  the  whole  eleva- 
tion in  a  mental  coup  ffml,  he  might  not  have  worked  so 
well  at  his  own  nearest  portion,  and  he  might  have  been  dis- 
tracted by  the  multiplicity  of  his  thoughts  and  ambitions. 
But  it  is  certain  that  admirable  powers  of  observation  do  not 
always  coexist  with  the  highest  logical  capacity.  Whether 
this  is  because  of  the  complementary  relation  of  parts  of  the 
mental  organism,  or  because  constant  occupation  with  the 
arrangement  of  sense  impressions  excludes  the  present  ac- 
tivity of  logical  reflection,  and  vice  versa,  we  do  not  know  ; 
but  the  two  faculties  are  often  dissociated  in  human  minds. 

It  seems  to  have  very  rarely  occurred  to  Mr.  Darwin,  and 
still  more  rarely  to  Dr.  Wallace,  to  reflect  on,  or  at  least  to 
discuss,  the  question  of  the  origin  of  the  variations  con- 
cerning which  they  have  said  so  much  and  so  convincingly. 
In  the  writings  of  both  we  frequently  meet  with  the  ex- 

Eression  that  such  and  such  a  character  has  been  "  caused 
y  natural  selection."    So  habitual  did  this  idea  become 


12  Alfred  Russel  Wallace,  LL.  D. 

that  it  is  now  the  creed  of  a  scientific  school  of  the  country- 
men of  Darwin  and  Wallace,  and  it  has  influenced  the 
thought  of  English-speaking  people  everywhere.  That 
natural  selection  is  not  the  primary  but  a  secondary  factor 
in  evolution  it  has  been  my  aim  to  show  in  various  pub- 
lications since  1868,  and  an  active  school  of  evolutionists 
in  America,  England,  and  Germany  occupies  this  position. 
In  Germany,  Nageli  and  Eimer ;  in  England,  Spencer, 
Henslow,  Turner,  and  Geddes ;  and  in  America,  Hyatt, 
Jackson,  Packard,  Osborn,  Kyder,  Sharp,  and  Ball,  have 
made  important  contributions  to  this  doctrine ;  and  as,  in 
the  case  of  most  of  these  writers,  their  doctrine  includes 
the  essential  of  the  position  of  Lamarck,  the  term  Neo- 
lamarckian  is  appropriate  to  this  school  and  to  its  opinions. 
To  the  opposite  school  the  term  Neodarwinian  or  Postdar- 
winian  has  been  applied. 

The  failure  of  the  Neodarwinian  school  to  enter  into  a 
consideration  of  the  origin  of  variation  has  precluded  them 
from  researches  into  the  mechanical  causes  of  modifications 
of  structure,  whether  proceeding  from  the  movements  of 
the  organism  in  relation  to  its  environment,  or  whether  due 
to  the  action  of  the  environment  on  the  organism.  Yet 
they  have  occasionally  slipped  into  Lamarckian  explana- 
tions of  the  structures  and  colors  of  animals.  Lankester 
has  admitted  that  the  spiral  coil  of  the  gastropod  mollusca 
was  due  to  an  unsymmetrical  position  of  the  shell  of  the 
animal  during  growth.  Wallace  has  suggested  that  the  ro- 
tation of  the  eye  of  the  flat-fish  from  one  side  of  the  head  to 
the  other  was  due  to  the  effort  of  the  animal  to  direct  that 
eye  upward,  as  the  body  gradually  acquired  the  habit  of  lying 
and  swimming  on  one  side.  Poulton  ascribes  the  imitative 
colors  of  the  pupae  of  certain  butterflies  to  the  effect  of  the 
colors  of  the  environment  on  the  nervous  organism  of  the 
caterpillar  when  about  to  change.  But  these  explanations 
have  been  abandoned  by  Lankester  and  Wallace  as  implying 
the  insufficiency  of  the  action  of  natural  selection  to  pro- 
duce the  observed  results. 

The  opinions  of  Weissmann  lend  support  to  the  Neodar- 
winians.  This  author  declares  that  acquired  characters  can 
not  be  inherited,  so  that  if  use  and  disuse  should  produce 
modifications  in  the  structure  of  adult  animals,  they  could 
not  be  transmitted  to  their  descendants.  If  this  be  true, 
the  Lamarckian  position  is  founded  on  error.  This  doc- 
trine is  accepted  by  Wallace  in  his  last  work  (Darwinism). 


Alfred  Russel  Wallace,  LL.  D.  13 

Weissmann  and  the  other  Postdarwinians,  however,  admit 
the  acquisition  and  inheritance  of  what  they  call  "  congeni- 
tal "  characters,  which  appear  only  in  the  reproductive  ele- 
ments, and  which  they  distinguish  broadly  from  the  char- 
acters which  may  be  acquired  by  the  body  in  general  through 
use  and  disuse,  and  which  they  call  "  somatic  characters." 
They  endeavor  to  prove  their  hypothesis  that  the  latter  are 
not  inherited  by  endeavoring  to  reproduce  mutilations,  such 
as  by  the  breeding  of  mice  from  which  the  tails  have  been 
amputated,  etc.  It  is,  however,  evident  that  the  distinction 
between  "congenital"  and  "somatic"  acquired  characters 
does  not  exist,  since  evolution  shows  that  all  characters  have 
been  acquired  at  some  period  of  time,  and  that  the  only 
difference  in  such  characters  is  their  greater  or  less  antiquity. 
The  non-inheritance  of  mutilations  illustrates  the  principle 
that  the  general  relations  of  the  organism  contribute  to  the 
production  of  a  change  of  character,  and  that  no  isolated 
and  sporadic,  and  therefore  superficial,  change  affects  the  re- 
productive elements  sufficiently  to  be  transmitted.  Pale- 
ontology shows  that  the  causes  which  have  been  sufficient  to 
produce  inheritable  changes  of  structure  have  been  in  daily 
or  hourly  operation  for  long  ages ;  and  that  the  results  have 
been  the  gradual  evolution  of  mechanisms  especially  adapted 
to  the  needs  of  their  possessors  in  their  relations  to  the  en- 
vironment. 

We  rise  to  another  stage  of  the  subject  if,  when  we  grant 
that  the  movements  of  the  organism  have  produced  the 
changes  observed  and  which  constitute  progressive  evolution 
(and  vice  versa),  we  seek  for  the  causes  that  underlie  ani- 
mal motion.  The  inference  on  the  part  of  those  who  ob- 
serve living  animals  is  that  their  conscious  states  influence 
their  movements.  To  this  two  answers  are  made.  One  of 
these  is  by  a  school  of  physiologists  who  declare  that  a  con- 
scious (i.  e.,  a  mental)  state  can  not  influence  (i.  e.,  control  or 
direct)  the  motion  of  a  material  body.  The  other  objection 
is  that  animal  movements  are  not  nearly  always  consciously 
performed.  To  the  latter  objection  it  is  replied  that  un- 
conscious (automatic  or  reflex)  acts  are  simply  the  product 
of  education  during  conscious  states,  and  that  a  designed 
act  could  not  have  originated  in  any  other  way.  The  first 
objection — that  consciousness  can  not  affect  motion  of  mate- 
rial bodies — is  a  theoretical  inference  based  on  the  supposed 
impossibility  of  violating  the  law  of  the  conservation  of  en- 
ergy. It  is  a  special  statement  of  a  general  principle — viz., 


14  Alfred  Russel  Wallace,  LL.  D. 

that  mind  can  not  control  matter.  An  equally  necessary 
conclusion  is  that  matter  can  not  control  mind.  This  is  not 
the  place  to  enter  into  a  discussion  of  this  broad  question, 
so  I  will  only  refer  to  Dr.  Wallace's  position  on  this  impor- 
tant subject. 

Dr.  Wallace  has  perceived  the  necessity  of  some  agency 
other  than  mechanical  energy  to  account  for  the  intelli- 
gence displayed  by  animals  and  men.  As  he  does  not  admit 
the  Lamarckian  idea  of  use  and  disuse,  he  finds  no  direct 
use  for  animal  consciousness  in  the  premises.  He  criticises 
the  position  of  the  writer  of  the  present  paper  (Darwinism, 
Chapter  XIV),  that  consciousness,  and  consequently  intelli- 
gence, have  been  the  determining  causes  of  animal  move- 
ments. He  well  remarks  that  since  evolution  has  produced 
the  vegetable  kingdom  and  the  lowest  animals,  intelligence 
can  not  well  have  been  a  factor,  and  that,  this  being  the  case, 
it  is  not  necessary  to  suppose  it  to  have  been  so  in  the  case 
of  the  higher  animals,  as  one  rule  must  have  governed  all 
cases  at  the  basis.  Dr.  Wallace  does  not  appear  to  have 
taken  into  consideration  the  fact,  however,  that  the  simplest 
sensations  belong  to  the  department  of  mind,  and  that  it  is 
highly  probable  that  the  lowest  animals  and  their  almost 
indistinguishable  vegetable  allies  give  evidence  of  such  rudi- 
mentary sense-perception;  and  sensation  and  memory  are 
sufficient  for  the  evolution  of  mind.  The  vegetable  king- 
dom displays^for  the  most  part  characters  of  degeneracy,  its 
entire  "  efficient "  cause  being  the  reproductive  function, 
which  has  speedily  become  automatic  and  unconscious. 

The  rational  mind  which  has  not  surrendered  to  the  idea 
of  fortuity  seeks  some  explanation  of  the  ever-increasing  in- 
telligence found  intimately  associated  with  the  evolution  of 
animals.  Prof.  Haeckel  conceived  his  theory  of  the  "  plas- 
tidule  soul "  to  meet  the  difficulty ;  but  the  idea  is  indefi- 
nite, and  would  not  probably  have  been  entertained  by  its 
distinguished  author  if  he  had  followed  up  the  subject  of 
animal  psychology.  It  still  remains  in  the  limbo  of  unreal- 
ized fancies.  But  Dr.  Wallace  cuts  the  Gordian  knot  by 
the  introduction  of  the  idea  of  "  influx  "  of  a  mind-energy 
from  without.  I  can  say  of  this  proposition  that  it  appears 
to  be  an  unnecessary  interjection  into  an  otherwise  continu- 
ous operation  of  known  and  visible  causes.  The  presence  of 
sensation  and  memory  in  very  low  animals  is  too  well  as- 
sured to  render  any  external  influence  necessary  except  that 
of  the  environment ;  and  the  process  of  education  is  well 


Alfred  Russel  Wallace,  LL.  D. 


15 


known  to  produce  types  of  energy  which  may  run  on  in  their 
unvarying  automatic  courses  to  eternity  for  aught  that  we 
know  without  betraying  any  indication  of  consciousness  ex- 
cept that  their  nature  can  only  be  explained  on  the  supposi- 
tion that  consciousness  was  present  at  their  inception.  It  is 
also  a  self-evident  proposition  that  the  automatization  of  en- 
ergy must  be  the  cause  of  the  non-adaptability  of  an  organ- 
ism to  changes  in  the  environment,  and  therefore  the  cause 
of  the  destruction  or  degeneracy  of  organisms.  The  oppo- 
site proposition  is  equally  self-evident— viz.,  that  conscious- 
ness or  sensation  is  a  guarantee  of  persistent  life  and  adapta- 
bility to  changed  environment,  and  therefore  of  progressive 
evolution. 

In  conclusion,  I  present  a  table  of  the  alternative  posi- 
tions held  by  opposite  schools  of  evolutionists,  which  cor- 
respond in  the  main  with  the  Neolamarckian  and  Neodar- 
winian.  Although  particular  men  may  not  hold  all  the 
affirmations  of  either  side,  they  form  two  distinct  and  con- 
sistent bodies  of  doctrine. 


NEOLAMARCKIAN. 

1.  Variations  are  not  promiscu- 
ous, but  definite. 

2.  Variations  are  caused  by  the 
interaction  of  the  organic  being 
and  its  environment. 

3.  Acquired  variations  may  be 
inherited. 

4.  Variations    survive    directly 
as  they  are  adapted  to  changing 
environments. 

5.  Cause  of  inherited  variation 
is  physical  and  mechanical  inter- 
action of  being  and  environment. 

6.  Movements  of  the  organism 
are  caused  or  directed  by  sensa- 
tion and  other  conscious  states. 


7.  Conscious  experience  has  de- 
veloped  habitual    movements   of 
the  body. 

8.  The  rational  mind  is  devel- 
oped by  experience — i.  e.,  memory 
and  classification, 


NEC-DARWINIAN. 

1.  Variations  are  promiscuous 
or  multifarious. 

2.  Variations  are  "  congenital " 
and  are  not  caused  by  the  inter- 
action with  the  environment. 

3.  Acquired  variations  can  not 
be  inherited. 

4.  Variations    survive    directly 
as  they  are  adapted  to  the  envi- 
ronment. 

5.  Cause  of  inherited  variation 
is  unknown  or  is  the  mingling  of 
J  and  $  characters  in  reproduc- 
tion. 

6.  Movements  of  organism  are 
not  caused  by  sensation  or  con- 
scious states,  but  are  a  survival  by 
natural  selection  from  multifari- 
ous movements. 

7.  Conscious  experience  has  de- 
veloped mental  habits  only. 

8.  The  rational  mind  is  devel- 
oped by  natural  selection    from 
multifarious  mental  activities. 


16  Alfred  Russel  Wallace,  LL.  D. 


ABSTRACT  OF  THE  DISCUSSION. 

DR.  MARTIN  L.  HOLBROOK  :     • 

In  listening  to  the  able  and  interesting  lecture  of  Prof.  Cope,  I 
could  not  help  wishing  that  he  had  given  us  more  detailed  information 
about  the  personal  life  of  Mr.  Wallace  Knowledge  of  the  personal 
characteristics  of  a  writer  often  greatly  helps  us  to  an  understanding 
of  his  thought  and  to  a  due  appreciation  of  the  value  of  his  opinions. 
From  a  friend  who  knows  Mr.  Wallace  well,  I  have  obtained  some 
facts  concerning  him  which  may  be  of  interest.  This  friend  describes 
him  as  a  tall  man,  of  distinguished  appearance,  and  excellent  balance 
of  temperament.  He  is  a  good  listener,  but  not  gifted  in  conversation. 
When  he  speaks,  however,  his  words  carry  conviction,  on  account  of 
his  evident  sincerity  and  intelligence.  Mr.  Wallace  became  a  spiritu- 
alist, as  Dr.  Cope  has  intimated,  through  the  influence  of  a  very  inti- 
mate friend,  who  is  possessed  of  mediumistic  powers,  so  called,  and  he 
is  now  as  firm  as  a  rock  in  his  belief  in  the  general  truth  of  the  spirit- 
ualistic doctrine.  As  a  scientific  observer,  he  was  as  accurate  and 
painstaking  as  Mr.  Darwin,  and,  with  him,  is  entitled  to  the  honor  of 
the  discovery  of  the  law  of  natural  selection. 

EX-SURROGATK  AfiRAM  H.  DAILEY  : 

I  think  I  was  invited  here  this  evening  under  a  misapprehension. 
I  have  no  personal  acquaintance  with  Mr.  Wallace.  I  only  know  him 
through  his  writings.  I  have  fallen  on  a  similar  line  of  investigation 
in  the  phenomena  of  spirit-communication  with  Dr.  Wallace,  and  have 
come  to  similar  conclusions.  It  is  greatly  to  be  regretted  that  a  con- 
dition of  society  exists  which  deprecates  such  investigations,  and  that 
it  requires  moral  heroism  in  a  man  like  Mr.  Wallace  to  proclaim  his 
belief  in  the  spiritualistic  phenomena.  I  have  no  reason  to  doubt  that 
he  has  exercised  the  same  care  in  these  investigations  that  he  has  in 
his  biological  studies. 

MR.  THADDEUS  B.  WAKEMAN  : 

The  lecture  of  the  evening  is  an  able  and  valuable  contribution  to 
the  literature  of  evolution.  In  his  personal  character  Mr.  Wallace 
stands  as  high  as  Darwin.  Evolutionists  have  nothing  to  apologize 
for  in  the  characters  of  the  leading  advocates  of  this  doctrine.  All 
men,  however,  have  their  limitations.  Darwin  was  a  great  observer 


Alfred  Russel  Wallace,  LL.  D.  17 

and  discoverer,  but  not  a  theorist  or  philosopher.  The  development 
of  a  consistent  philosophy  based  upon  the  facts  of  evolution  was  impos- 
sible to  him.  Mr.  Wallace  is  more  inclined  to  philosophical  specula- 
tions, but  he  has  never  been  trained  in  the  scientific  study  of  mind, 
and  has  therefore  fallen  a  prey  to  the  false  theories  and  conclusions  of 
spiritism.  This  is  his  limitation.  For  myself,  I  believe  that  Prof. 
Haeckel,  about  whom  I  am  hereafter  to  speak  to  you,  stands  high  and 
clear  above  all  the  other  advocates  of  this  doctrine  as  a  philosophical 
evolutionist. 

Da.  LEWIS  G.  JANES  : 

It  is  interesting  to  note  that  the  subject  of  this  lecture  has  con- 
sidered the  doctrine  of  evolution  in  its  higher  aspects — as  related  to 
sociology  and  religion — as  well  as  in  its  merely  physical  relations.  In 
biology  Dr.  Wallace  is  more  of  a  Darwinian  than  was  Mr.  Darwin 
himself.  He  attributes  to  natural  selection  alone  many  of  those 
alterations  in  the  structure  and  coloration  of  birds  and  animals  which 
Darwin  attributed  to  sexual  selection.  In  reading  his  latest  work, 
soon  after  its  publication,  under  the  influence  of  his  cogent  arguments 
—backed,  as  they  were,  by  a  strong  array  of  facts,  and  charmed  by  his 
delightfully  perspicuous  style— it  seemed  to  me  that  his  conclusions  in 
most  of  the  cases  cited  by  him  were  fully  justified.  At  all  events,  his 
.  arguments  must  be  squarely  met  by  a  fair  appeal  to  the  facts,  in  order 
to  invalidate  their  conclusions.  In  regard  to  the  question  of  heredity, 
however,  and  the  effects  of  use  and  disuse  in  determining  variations,  I 
can  not  help  thinking  his  judgment  is  at  fault.  He  adopts  the  doctrine 
of  Dr.  Weissmann,  that  acquired  characters  are  not  inherited ;  but  this 
doctrine  has  been  recently  and,  as  it  appears  to  me,  successfully  com- 
bated by  Prof.  Theodor  Eimer,  and  the  facts  with  which  I  am  familiar 
seem  to  be  decidedly  against  it.  Nevertheless,  the  judgment  of  so 
good  an  observer  as  Mr.  Wallace  is  entitled  to  most  respectful  con- 
sideration. 

PROF.  COPE  thanked  the  audience  for  their  attention  and  briefly 
closed  the  discussion. 


ERNST    HAEOKEL 


BY 

THADDEUS  B.  WAKEMAN 


COLLATERAL  READINGS  RECOMMENDED: 

Haeckel  and  Virchow,  in  Contemporary  Review,  vol.  xxxiii,  p.  540 ; 
Darwin  and  ffaeckel,  by  Prof.  Huxley,  in  Popular  Science  Monthly, 
vol.  vi,  p.  592 ;  article  Haeckel,  in  American  Cyclopaedia ;  Haeckel's 
History  of  Creation,  Evolution  of  Man,  General  Morphology  of  Organ- 
isms, Freedom  of  Science  and  Teaching,  and  India  and  Ceylon. 


PROF.  ERNST   HAECKEL, 

SIS  LIFE,  WORKS,  CAREER,  AND  PROPHECY. 
BY  THADDEUS  B.  WAKEMAN. 

IT  has  been  wisely  arranged  that  this  course  of  lectures 
shall  be  enlivened  from  time  to  time  by  some  account  of 
the  distinguished  naturalists  and  philosophers  whose  dis- 
coveries and  labors  have  given  evolution  its  modern  and 
scientific  form.  Thus,  very  appropriately,  in  the  first  course 
of  this  series  in  a  former  year,  the  pastor  of  this  church 
gave  an  admirable  discourse  upon  the  personal  career,  dis- 
coveries, and  influence  of  Charles  Darwin.  And  equally 
appropriate  was  the  most  interesting  account  of  the  life,  re- 
searches, and  services  of  Alfred  Kussel  Wallace,  by  our 
American  scientist,  Prof.  Edward  D.  Cope,  which  opened 
the  course  of  the  present  season.  Next  after  these  two  co- 
discoverers  of  the  great  law  of  natural  selection,  no  one  has 
done  more  to  sustain,  explain,  and  defend  evolution  than 
Ernst  Haeckel,  the  famous  Professor  of  Zoology  at  the  Uni- 
versity of  Jena.  He  is  the  leading  exponent  of  evolution 
upon  the  continent  of  Europe,  and  has  carried  its  conquests 
far  beyond  the  concepts  of  Darwin  or  Wallace. 

This  evening  is,  therefore,  properly  devoted  to  an  effort 
to  get  as  near  as  possible  to  him,  his  discoveries,  his  phi- 
losophy or  view  of  the  world,  and  his  religion.  We  can  ap- 
proach him  best  for  this  purpose  if  we  consider  his  career 
first  as  a  man  and  naturalist,  then  as  the  exponent  of  the 
monistic  philosophy,  and  lastly  as  the  prophet  of  "  monism  " 
as  a  religion — for  he  has  brought  into  use  this  word  "  mo- 
nism "  to  designate  the  final  philosophy  and  religion  of 
evolution  and  science. 

First,  then,  we  must  regard  him  as  a  man  and  a  natu- 
ralist, for  these  two,  man  and  naturalist,  in  his  case,  have 
never  been  separated ;  and,  as  such,  there  are  few  personal 
characters  in  the  world  really  more  worthy  of  our  acquaint- 
ance and  study  than  this  same  German  professor,  now  at 
the  age  of  fifty-six,  working  busily  as  a  bee  at  his  pleasant 
villa,  or  in  his  lecture  hall  and  museum,  on  the  banks  of 


22  Prof.  Ernst  Haeckel 

the  Saale  River,  or  wandering  over  Europe,  Asia,  or  Africa 
as  the  knight-errant  of  Science,  or  defending  her  latest  ac- 
quisitions against  retrogrades  and  Philistines  in  the  scien- 
tific assemblies  of  Germany  and  Europe,  and  finally  receiv- 
ing their  honors. 

He  was  born  at  Potsdam,  near  Berlin,  February  16,  1834, 
within  a  day  of  the  anniversary  of  the  martyrdom  of  Bruno 
(February  17,  1600)  and  two  years  after  the  death  of 
Goethe,  who  is  still  remembered  as  the  presiding  genius 
of  the  Saale  Valley — of  Jena  and  the  neighboring  Weimar. 
Haeckel's  chief  characteristic— we  may  say  inheritance— 
as  a  child  seems  to  have  been  a  love  of  nature,  which  justi- 
fied his  being  called  a  German  Linnaeus.  His  love  of  flow- 
ers began  in  the  cradle.  When  but  twelve  years  of  age,  we 
are  told,  he  was  quite  a  botanist,  and  had  collected  two 
herbariums— one  official,  in  which  he  had  placed  what  were 
then  called  typical  forms,  all  carefully  labeled  as  sepa- 
rate and  distinct  species,  while  in  the  other,  a  secret  one, 
were  placed  the  "  bad  kinds,"  presenting  a  long  series  of 
specimens  transitional  from  one  good  species  to  another. 
Such  discoveries  were  at  that  time  the  forbidden  fruits  of 
knowledge,  which,  in  leisure  hours,  were  his  secret  delight 
— a  delight  which  grew  from  year  to  year. 

While  at  the  Gymnasium,  or  high  school,  he  prepared  a 
botanical  work  for  publication.  At  the  university  he  de- 
termined to  enter  upon  the  medical  profession  as  the  open 
gateway  to  the  secrets  of  nature.  As  a  student  he  seems 
to  have  enjoyed  rare  advantages.  Under  the  distinguished 
professors  Kolliker  and  Leydig  he  studied  physiology  and 
anatomy  at  Wurzburg,  and  then  under  Prof.  Johannes 
Miiller  at  Berlin,  an  instructor  to  whom  he  gives  generous 
meed  of  praise  as  his  great  teacher — for  in  this  tone  he  feel- 
ingly refers  to  him  in  his  reply  to,  or  rather  duel  with,  the 
celebrated  physiologist  Rudolph  Virchow  in  1878.  Whereof 
he  then  spoke  he  must  have  known  well,  for  he  was  also 
the  student  and  assistant  of  this  same  redoubtable  Rudolph 
Virchow,  and  apparently  a  favorite  of  his,  until  his  course 
of  preparatory  medical  studies  closed.  At  their  conclusion 
we  find  him  settling  down  as  a  practicing  physician  at  Ber- 
lin in  1858. 

But  it  was  evident  to  his  instructors  and  friends,  and 
finally  to  himself,  that  he  was  called  by  nature  to,  let  us 
say,  a  different  rather  than  a  higher  work — for  can  there  be 
a  higher  than  the  worthy  practice  of  medicine  ?  As  early 


Prof.  Ernst  Haeckel  23 

as  1854  he  had  been  engaged  with  Professors  Kolliker  and 
Miiller  pursuing  experiments  and  researches  in  animal  tis- 
sues. In  1857  he  published  his  first  biological  essay  on  the 
tissues  of  crabs.  Two  years  after,  in  1859,  we  find  him 
withdrawing  from  his  professional  practice  and  spending 
fifteen  months  in  Italy,  engaged  in  special  zoological  re- 
searches. On  his  return,  in  1861,  he  submitted  the  results 
of  his  studies  and  experiments  to  the  University  of  Jena, 
especially  in  an  essay  on  Khizopods.  This  appears  to  have 
been  the  turning-point  in  his  career,  for  in  the  next  year 
(1862)  he  was  appointed  Professor  Extraordinary  at  that 
university ;  and  there  he  has  ever  since  remained,  and  has 
been  steadily  advanced  from  one  position  of  honor  and  use- 
fulness to  another,  until  it  would  seem  that  pretty  much  all 
that  a  naturalist,  philosopher,  and  author  could  desire  has 
fallen  to  his  lot. 

During  the  thirty  years  of  his  professorship  he  has  had 
many  calls  to  other  and  foreign  institutions,  but  nothing 
could  equal  the  attractions  which  bind  him  to  this  favored, 
we  may  say,  to  him,  almost  sacred  locality ;  for,  by  singular 
good  fortune,  his  "  earthly  days"  are  spent  under  the  shadow 
of  those  Thuringian  mountains  where  his  great  protagonist 
and  inspirer,  Goethe,  dreamed  and  lived,  and  prophetically 
poetized  the  religion  of  evolution  ;  and  there  he  works,  too, 
in  that  very  same  old  independent  University  of  Jena  which 
Goethe  directed  for  years  with  the  expressed  hope  that  it 
would  some  day  open  up  this  new  science  of  evolution  to 
the  world.  How  deeply  this  landscape  and  these  associations 
affect  and  inspire  our  professor  is  seen  by  his  touching  fare- 
well to  them  on  his  departure  .to  India  and  Ceylon  in  Octo- 
ber, 1881.  Take  this  page,  for  instance,  which,  as  if  a  cur- 
tain were  raised,  opens  our  view  at  once  into  the  very  heart 
of  the  man  (page  11) : 

"My  arrangements  at  last  completed,  and  the  sixteen 
boxes  sent  in  advance  to  Trieste,  I  was  ready  to  take  leave 
of  dear  quiet  Jena  on  the  morning  of  the  8th  of  October. 
When  the  last  moment  arrived,  I  found  that  a  six  months' 
absence  from  home  would  be  no  easy  task  for  the  father  of 
a  family  who  had  already  attained  the  age  of  forty-seven 
years.  With  what  different  emotions  would  I  have  taken 
my  departure  twenty-five  years  ago,  when  a  tropical  journey 
was  the  chief  aim  of  my  life !  True,  the  experience  of 
twenty-five  years  of  teaching  and  zoological  study  would 
enable  me  to  accomplish  more  than  I  could  have  done 


24  Prof.  Ernst  Haeckel 

a  quarter  of  a  century  ago.  But  I  was  twenty-five  years 
older  !  Would  the  concrete  wonders  of  tropical  nature  pos- 
sess the  same  fascination  for  me,  now  that  I  had  penetrated 
the  abstract  domains  of  natural  philosophy  ? 

"These  and  kindred  thoughts,  together  with  the  most 
doleful  impressions  of  my  last  farewells  to  home  and  friends, 
passed  through  my  brain  as  the  train  bore  me  through  the 
cold  gray  autumnal  mist  which  enshrouded  my  beloved  Saale 
Valley. 

"  Only  the  tallest  peaks  of  our  magnificent  MmohelkcdTc 
mountains  rose  above  the  misty  sea ;  on  the  right,  Haus- 
berg,  with  his  '  rosy,  radiant  summit,'  the  proud  pyramid  of 
the  Jenzig,  and  the  romantic  ruins  of  Kunitzberg.  On  the 
left  stretched  the  wooded  heights  of  Rauthal ;  and,  further 
on,  Goethe's  favorite  retreat,  charming  Dornberg.  I  waved 
an  adieu  to  these  dear  old  mountain  friends,  and  promised 
to  return  to  them  in  good  health  and  richly  laden  with  In- 
dian treasures. 

"  As  if  to  ratify  the  promise,  they  gave  me  their  friendli- 
est morning  greeting ;  the  dense  mist  suddenly  fell  from 
their  shoulders,  and  the  triumphant  sun  rose  into  a  perfect- 
ly cloudless  sky.  Thousands  of  dew-drops  blazed  like  jewels 
in  the  azure  cups  of  the  lovely  gentians  decorating  the  grassy 
slopes  on  either  side  of  the  iron  road." 

In  these  words  we  have  recalled  the  exquisite  landscape, 
with  the  mists  and  inspirations,  of  Goethe's  Novelle,  The 
Tale  (Mdhrchen),  and  his  final,  noble,  wisest  Letter  from 
Dornberg  Castle,  in  those  "  saddest  days  "  of  1828.  Before 
this  scene,  and  as  its  product  largely,  we  see  our  heart-and- 
headful  professor  and  his  lovely  family  so  clearly,  lovingly 
depicted  that  ordinary  details  must  not  dim  the  picture. 

At  this  university,  Goethe's  university,  his  scientific  ca- 
reer began.  Here  his  early  enthusiasm  was  sheltered  when, 
in  1861,  he  came  from  Italy  with  his  love  of  nature  kindled 
to  a  flame  by  his  personal  explorations,  and  not  less,  per- 
haps, by  that  wonderful  epoch-making  book,  Darwin's  Ori- 
gin of  Species,  which  had  appeared  during  his  absence  in 
1859.  He  saw  at  once  that  the  simple  but  far-reaching  dis- 
covery of  the  law  of  "  natural  selection  "  (implying  "  sexual 
selection"  and  so  much  more  afterwards  given  to  the  world) 
contained  in  this  work  was  the  corner-stone  upon  which 
materials  collected  by  others,  and  recently  by  himself,  couM 
finally  be  raised  into  a  complete  and  noble  science  of  biolo- 
gy ;  a  solution  of  the  problems  of  the  whole  organic  world. 


Prof.  Ernst  HaecM.  25 

To  this  achievement  he  determined  to  devote  himself  as  his 
lifework.  Wonderful  has  been  his  success,  because  he  has 
brought  to  bear  upon  it  a  rare  genius  sustained  by  a  phe- 
nomenal industry 

In  order  to  gather  some  notion  of  what  is  meant  by  "  phe- 
nomenal industry,"  we  need  but  to  glance  over  his  works 
and  explorations  for  a  few  years. 

In  1862  he  presented  to  his  university  a  celebrated  work 
on  the  IZadialaria,  for  which  a  gold  medal  was  awarded. 
In  this  work  new  genera  and  species  were  described  and  the 
whole  subject  newly  classified  in  accordance  with  the  new 
philosophy  of  the  genealogical  descent  of  organisms,  by  which 
he  justified  his  adhesion  to  the  new  and  then  unpopular 
Darwinian  doctrine  of  the  origin  of  species. 

In  1863,  before  the  Convention  of  German  Physicians  at 
Stettin,  he  introduced  and  stood  almost  alone  in  advocating 
the  new  views  and  discoveries  of  Darwinism  as  the  solving 
and  renovating  power  in  the  biological  sciences,  and  as 
tributary  to  medicine. 

In  1864  he  published  in  illustration  of  the  descent  of 
species,  an  important  work  on  the  Crustacea. 

In  1865  appeared  another  work  on  the  Medusa.  The 
result  of  these  publications  and  of  his  teaching  was  such 
that  the  University  of  Jena  began  to  be  recognized  as 
the  unrivaled  school  of  zoology,  comparative  anatomy,  and 
Biology.  A  regular  professorship  was  created  for  him.  A 
museum  was  established  with  a  lecture  hall,  and  his  friend 
and  co-worker,  Prof.  Gegenbaur,  was  appointed  his  as- 
sistant. 

The  next  year  (1866)  the  first  of  his  larger  works  ap- 
peared, The  Organic  Morphology,  in  two  large  volumes, 
with  hundreds  of  charts  and  illustrations,  which  astonished 
the  proverbially  patient  and  industrious  Germans  by  their  ex- 
tent, thoroughness,  novelty,  and  general  importance.  Their 
main  purpose  was  to  prove  that  the  whole  domain  of  com- 
parative physiology,  anatomy,  and  embryology  was  scien- 
tifically reduced  to  successive  order  by  the  new  views,  which 
made  correlative '  changes  and  functions  the  solution  of  the 
forms  of  all  living  organisms.  By  this  law  of  evolution  he 
proved  that  the  changes  in  the  development  of  the  embryo 
epitomize  the  successive  changes  which  the  genus  to  which 
the  animal  belongs  has  undergone  in  its  world-history.  This 
law  of  comparative  embryology  at  once  gave  to  biologists  an 
immense  power  of  prevision  and  discovery;  for  the  tribal 


26  Prof.  Ernst  HaecTcel 

history  of  every  animal  could  be  largely  sketched  out  by 
indications  and  changes  in  the  embryo,  and  then  be  verified 
by  actual  research  and  observation  in  nature.  Thus  the 
genesis  of  the  tribe  (Phylogenesis]  and  of  the  individual 
( Ontogenesis)  were  made  to  throw  light  upon  and  to  reveal 
each  other. 

Another  view  of  great  interest  was  presented  in  this  woik, 
that  the  simpler  organisms  or  microbes  represented  a  primi- 
tive condition  of  life  not  only  below  the  distinction  of  sex, 
but  also  below  the  distinction  of  animal  and  vegetable  life, 
and  were  really  such  simple  forms  of  protoplasm  that  they 
constitute  a  kingdom  by  themselves,  which  he  calls  the  Pro- 
tista and  regards  as  the  common  foundation  and  source  of 
both  animals  and  plants.  Prof.  Huxley  expressed  the  sen- 
timent of  those  capable  of  judging  when  he  pronounced 
this  Morphology  to  be  one  of  the  greatest  scientific  works 
ever  published.  Its  influence  was  largely  instrumental  in 
turning  the  tide  of  German  thought  in  favor  of  the  new 
biology. 

Certainly  after  such  a  display  of  genius  and  labor  the  re- 
quirement of  some  rest  would  appear  reasonable,  but  it 
seems  that  Prof. .  Haeckel  never  rests.  His  vacations  are 
spent  in  excursions  for  scientific  research  and  verification. 
In  the  winter  of  1866  he  was  at  work  among  the  Canary 
Islands,  and  upon  his  return  he  published  an  interesting  re- 
port of  his  explorations  there  and  on  the  Atlantic  coasts. 

In  1867-'68  he  determined  to  give  a  popular  exposition 
of  the  new  philosophy — the  new  view  of  the  world.  A 
course  of  lectures  was  accordingly  delivered,  reported,  and 
published,  which  are  now  known  the  world  over  as  The 
Natural"  History  of  Creation.  This  work  has  gone  on 
through  revised  editions  from  the  first  to  the  'eighth,  and 
has  been  translated  into  English  (in  two  volumes,  by  the 
Appletons)  and  into  every  modern  civilized  language.  Ex- 
cepting, perhaps,  some  of  Darwin's  works,  it  has  done  more 
than  any  other  to  make  evolution  known  as  the  fundamental 
law  of  the  organic  world.  Of  it,  in  the  preface  to  his  De- 
scent of  Man,  Darwin  uses  these  remarkable  words  : 

"  The  conclusion  that  man  is  the  co-descendant  with  other 
species  of  some  ancient,  lower,  and  extinct  form  is  not  in 
any  degree  new.  Lamarck  long  ago  came  to  this  conclu- 
sion, which  has  lately  been  maintained  by  several  eminent 
naturalists  and  philosophers — for  instance,  by  "Wallace,  Hux- 
ley, Lyell,  Vogt,  Lubbock,  Buchner,  Eolle,  and  especially 


Prof.  Ernst  HaecTcel  27 

by  Haeckel.  This  last  naturalist,  besides  his  great  work, 
Generalle  Morphologic  (1866),  has  recently  (1868,  with  a 
second  edition,  1870)  published  his  Natural  History  of  Cre- 
ation, in  which  he  fully  discusses  the  genealogy  of  man.  If 
this  work  had  appeared  before  my  essay  had  been  written,  I 
should  probably  never  have  completed  it.  Almost  all  the 
conclusions  at  which  I  have  arrived  I  find  confirmed  by  this 
naturalist,  whose  knowledge  on  many  points  is  much  fuller 
than  mine." 

"When  we  consider  from  whom  these  words  come,  they  are 
the  highest  encomium  a  work  of  that  kind  could  receive. 

In  1869  Prof.  Haeckel  published  an  essay  upon  the  evo- 
lution of  the  SiphonophoreS)  which  was  awarded  a  gold  medal 
at  Utrecht. 

In  1870  he  published  biological  studies  on  the  Monera 
and  Protista  of  the  Catallacts,  a  new  group  of  Protista. 

In  1871  he  spent  March  and  April  on  the  Dalmatian 
coast  near  Trieste,  and  August  and  September  on  the  coasts 
of  Xorway,  in  scientific  researches. 

In  1872  he  visited  the  eastern  coasts  of  the  Mediterranean 
for  similar  purposes.  During  these  three  years  he  delivered 
courses  of  lectures  at  Jena  and  Berlin,  and  published  arti- 
cles on  the  division  of  labor  in  nature  and  in  human  life ; 
also  on  life  at  great  sea  depths,  on  the  genealogical  tree  of 
the  human  race,  and  on  the  relationship  of  the  sponges  and 
corals. 

In  1872  appeared  another  of  his  great  works — viz.,  The 
Calcareous  Sponges,  in  three  volumes,  with  sixty  plates. 
This,  like  his  Morphology,  is  an  epoch-making  work.  It 
answered  the  demand  of  those  who  insisted  upon  "  actual 
facts  "  as  the  only  proofs  of  evolution  by  showing  the  his- 
tory, connection,  and  descent  of  the  species  of  sponges  in 
such  masterly  detail  that  ignorance  of  the  work  was  the 
only  escape  from  conviction.  With  its  publication  evolu- 
tion was  generally  admitted  to  have  passed  from  the  stage 
of  hypothesis  and  to  stand  forever  as  a  verified  law  of  biol- 
ogy— its  fundamental  law. 

In  1874  he  published  essays  upon  the  Gastraea,  or  stom- 
ach, theory ;  The  Phylogenic  Classification  of  Animals ; 
and  the  Homology  of  Germ-layers  of  Animals.  All  these 
were  preparatory  to  the  great  work  which  followed. 

In  1874-'75  appeared  his  celebrated  Anthropogenic,  or 
Evolution  of  Man.  This  is  a  popular  exposition  of  the  ori- 
gin and  evolution  of  man  as  a  race  (phylogenic),  and  of 


28  Prof.  Ernst  Haeckel 

man  as  an  individual  (ontogenic),  with  all  his  organs,  com- 
pared together  step  by  step.  It  is  the  true  Book  of  Gen- 
esis in  the  Bible  of  Nature,  and  proves  how  much  more 
strange,  wonderful,  and  interesting  truth  can  be  than  mira- 
cle, fiction,  tradition,  and  mythology.  It  is  going  through 
as  many  editions  as  the  Natural  History  of  Creation,  and 
should  be  read  directly  after  it,  as  its  counterpart  and  con- 
clusion. (Published  by  D.  Appleton  &  Co.) 

In  1877,  before  the  Association  of  German  Naturalists 
and  Physicians  (the  leading  scientific  body  of  Germany), 
our  knight-errant  of  evolution  was  called  upon  to  enter 
the  lists  with  the  celebrated  pathologist,  Eudolph  Virchow, 
his  former  instructor,  and  the  leading  spirit  of  the  uni- 
versity and  scientific  coterie  of  Berlin.  In  this  duel,  as  Mr. 
Gladstone  would  call  it,  our  knight  bore  himself  right  gal- 
lantly and  well,  as  all  may  see  in  his  work  which  resulted 
from  it,  which  appeared  in  1878  as  the  Liberty  in  Science 
and  Teaching  (published  also  in  English  by  the  Appletons), 
with  a  noble  and  useful  introduction  by  Prof.  Huxley.  Of 
this  work  and  its  bearing  upon  philosophic  thought  more 
must  be  said  when  we  touch  his  philosophy. 

We  have  noticed  enough  of  his  publications  from  year 
to  year  to  show  what  an  indomitable  man,  naturalist,  and 
worker  this  Ernst  Haeckel  must  be.  His  past  assures  us 
that  he  will  go  on  learning,  teaching,  and  publishing  to  the 
end  of  his  days,  and  that  he  will  never  touch  any  topic  that 
he  will  not  enlighten  and  adorn. 

In  a  letter  to  an  American  friend,  written  by  his  own 
hand,  he  classifies  his  important  works  to  date  as  follows : 

I.  General  Biology  and  Philosophical  Works. 

1.  General  Morphology,  1866. 

2.  Natural  History  of  Creation,  1868,  etc.  (8  edi- 

tions, 12  translations). 

3.  Collected  Popular  Essays,  1878.    (Bonn,  2  vols.) 
II.  General  Zoological  and  Phylogenetic  Works. 

1.  Gastraea  Theory,  1873. 

2.  Studies  of  the  Monera  and  other  Protista,  1870. 

3.  Anthropogenie,  1877  (3  editions). 
III.  Zoological  Monographs. 

1.  Radiakria  (35  plates),  1862. 

2.  Calcarspongiae  (60  plates),  1872. 

3.  Medusas  (72  plates),  1877. 

4.  Siphonophoras  (64  plates),  1869,  1888. 


Prof.  Ernst  HaecM.  29 

IV.  Reports  on  the  Zoology  of  H.  M.  S.  Challenger. 

1.  Deep-sea  Medusa  (32  plates),  1880. 

2.  Deep-sea  Keratorae  (8  plates),  1889. 

3.  Siphonophorse  (50  plates),  1888. 

4.  Kadialaria  (740  plates),  1887. 
V.   Vogages  and  Travels. 

1.  Articles  on  Corfu,  Brussa,  Teneriffe,  Norway, 

etc.,  from  the  Deutsche   Rundschau,   1866 
to  1878. 

2.  India  and  Ceylon,  and  Egypt  (published  in  Ger- 

man, English,  etc.),  1882. 

To  those  who  wish  to  be  introduced  to  our  author  per- 
sonally, we  say  read  his  India  and  Ceylon,  and  he  will  live 
with  you  as  a  delightful  friend  and  companion  ever  after. 
No  book  of  travels  is  superior  to  it — not  even  Darwin's 
Voyage  of  the  Beagle,  said  to  be  the  best  of  all.  In  it 
we  learn  to  admire  the  physical  courage  and  dexterity  which 
served  him  so  well  in  the  moving  incidents  of  flood  and 
field.  We  see  in  him  a  good  physical  type  of  the  German, 
a  little  over  six  feet  tall,  body  well  proportioned,  firm  but 
not  gross,  with  brainy  head,  straight  face,  auburn  hair, 
grayish-blue  eyes,  and  sanguine  temperament  of  the  true 
knight ;  ready  for  the  contest  with  Virchow  at  Munich,  the 
elephant  hunt  on  the  Ceylon  mountain,  or  the  dangers  of 
the  coral  grove  in  the  depths  of  the  Indian  Ocean.  To  ap- 
preciate these  physical  and  mental  qualities,  think  of  a  Ger- 
man professor  naked  and  open-eyed  in  such  a  water-world 
as  this  1  We  quote  from  his  experience  at  Punta  Gallia  : 

"  The  entire  attraction  of  a  coral  bank  can  not  be  seen 
from  above,  even  though  you  float  .immediately  over  it  at 
ebb-tide,  and  the  water  is  so  shallow  your  boat  scrapes 
against  the  points.  A  descent  into  the  fluid  element  is 
therefore  necessary.  Not  possessing  a  diving-bell,  I  at- 
tempted to  swim  to  the  bottom,  keeping  my  eyes  open,  and 
after  considerable  practice  accomplished  this  feat.  Quite 
wonderful,  then,  is  the  mystical  green  glimmer  that  illumines 
the  whole  of  this  submarine  world.  The  fascinated  eye 
is  continually  surprised  by  the  most  remarkable  light-effects, 
quite  different  from  those  of  the  familiar  upper  world  with 
its  '  rosy  radiance ' ;  and  doubly  curious  and  interesting  are 
the  forms  and  movements  of  all  the  thousand  different  creat- 
ures swarming  in  the  coral  gardens.  The  diver  is  in  a  new 
world.  Here  are  multitudes  of  remarkable  fishes,  crabs, 


.   30  Prof.  Ernst  Haeckel. 

snails,  mussels,  star-creatures,  worms,  etc.,  whose  nourish- 
ment consists  exclusively  of  the  flesh  of  the  coral  animals 
on  which  their  habitations  are  fixed ;  and  these  coral-de- 
vourers — one  may  appropriately  term  them  '  parasites  ' — 
have,  through  adaptation  to  their  peculiar  mode  of  life,  ac- 
quired the  most  astonishing  forms,  and  have  been  furnished 
with  weapons  of  defense  and  of  offense  of  the  most  singu- 
lar shapes. 

"  But,  if  the  naturalist  may  not  ramble  free  from  danger 
among  palms,  neither  may  he  swim  unmolested  among  coral 
banks.  The  Oceanidce,  who  jealously  guard  these  cool  fairy 
regions  of  the  sea,  threaten  the  intruder  with  a  thousand 
dangers.  The  fire-corals  (Millepora),  as  well  as  the  medusas 
swimming  among  their  branches,  sting,  when  touched,  like 
the  most  resentful  nettles.  The  floating  cilia  of  many  of 
the  mailed  fishes  (Synanceia)  inflict  wounds  that  are  as 
painful  and  dangerous  as  those  of  a  scorpion.  Many  crabs 
nip  in  the  severest  manner  with  their  powerful  claws.  Black 
sea-urchins  (Diadema)  bore  their  barbed  spines,  a  foot  long, 
into  the  flesh,  where  they  break  off  and  cause  annoying 
sores.  But  the  worst  damage  to  the  venturesome  diver  is 
inflicted  by  the  corals  themselves.  The  thousands  of  sharp 
points  on  their  calcareous  structures  cut  and  abrade  the 
skin  in  various  ways.  In  all  my  life  I  never  had  such  an 
excoriated  and  lacerated  body  as  when  coral-fishing  at  Pun- 
ta  Gallia,  and  I  suffered  from  the  wounds  for  several  weeks. 
But  what  are  _  these  transitory  sufferings  to  the  naturalist 
whose  whole  life  has  been  enriched  by  the  marvelous  experi- 
ence and  natural  enjoyments  of  his  visit  to  the  wonderful 
banks  of  coral ! " 

Nature  may  well  be  willing  to  reveal  her  secrets  to  those 
who  woo  her  in  this  courageous  way.  Nor  is  it  less  the 
delight  of  such  lovers  of  nature  to  make  the  treasures  they 
acquire  the  common  possession  of  their  kind,  and  such  a 
treasure  he  is  now  preparing.  The  work  of  the  professor 
now  passing  through  the  press  is  upon  the  organic  world 
beneath  the  sea.* 

In  this  blessed  work  of  acquiring  and  imparting  knowl- 
edge our  author-hero  spends  his  days,  and  we  may  almost 
say  his  nights  too,  surrounded  by  a  happy  family  and  a  cir- 
cle of  friends  to  whom  he  is  the  most  loveable  and  therefore 

«*,  Vfc  appear.ed  to  January,  1891,  entitled  Plankton-Studien-that  is,  Sea-Drift 

h-  lfl~a^    1S  ^  £emarkable  contribution  to  the  wonder- world  of  protoplasm, 

Tee  a  tSat'      '       ^"16  sea'world  hidden  from  our  eyes-   We  h°Pe  soon  to 


Prof.  Ernst  Haeckel  31 

the  most  beloved  of  men — a  circle  that  bids  fair  to  include 
the  enlightened  world ;  and  some  parts  not  so  enlightened, 
if  we  may  judge  from  his  difficulty  in  tearing  himself  from 
the  embraces  of  his  dusky  Ceylonese  attendants  when  he 
had  to  bid  them  a  sad  farewell !  So  also  we  must  part  from 
our  consideration  of  him  as  a  man,  to  greet  him  as  a  phi- 
losopher. But,  in  so  doing,  let  us  say :  Fortunate  it  is  for 
"  the  new  thought "  that  he  is  not  alone  or  singular  among 
evolutionists  and  scientists,  in  being  worthy  of  a  new  order 
of  sainthood,  in  which  devotion  to  truth  and  humanity  is  a 
saving  grace  to  them,  and  to  themselves  for  others.  So  was 
it  with  Darwin  and  Lyell,  and  so  is  it  with  their  living  co- 
workers  and  followers  generally.  There  is  no  discount  to 
be  taken  from  their  personal  or  general  worth.  When  these 
pure  nature- worshipers  enter  the  Heaven  where  the  whole 
human  race  appears  in  the  Pantheon  of  memory,  how  soon 
will  they  rise  above  those  ancient,  mediaeval,  abnormal, 
sickly  fanatics  who  have  been  canonized  as  "  saints  " ! 

And  now,  secondly,  let  us  turn  to  the  philosophy  of  these 
men,  and  especially  of  Prof.  Haeckel,  to  find,  if  we  can,  the 
life  motive,  or  religion,  which  inspires  such  noble  results. 
They  are  all,  indeed,  scientific  evolutionists ;  but,  of  them 
all,  Haeckel  appears  to  be  the  persistent,  consistent,  and 
complete  evolutionist,  and  as  such  he  is  entitled  to  name 
this  new  philosophy  and  religion.  The  name  which  he  has 
bestowed  upon  it  is  Monism.  The  only  complete  evolution- 
ist ?  Darwin,  Lyell,  Huxley,  Hooker,  Gray,  and  others  never 
went  far  beyond  their  special  sciences — never  assumed  to  be 
general  philosophers,  much  less  prophets  and  teachers  of 
religion.  Of  those  who  have  expressed  "  religious  "  views, 
we  notice  that  Alfred  E.  Wallace,  who  shares  with  Darwin 
the  discovery  of  natural  selection,  has  become  fatally  in- 
volved in  spiritualism  and  the  ghost  world,  so  that  he  be- 
lieves that  we  can  not  reach  the  human  Ego  by  natural  selec- 
tion. That  assumption  is,  of  course,  fatal  to  his  consistency 
and  usefulness  as  far  as  general  science  and  complete  evolu- 
tion are  concerned.  We  follow  him  gladly  until  his  appeal 
to  our  rational  nature  vanishes  in  the  shadowy  realms  where 
superstition  defies  science.  Then,  like  Newton,  before  the 
"  Prophecies,"  his  observing  intellect  is  powerless.  In  a  sim- 
ilar way  Herbert  Spencer  starts  out  grandly,  in  his  scheme 
of  universal  evolution,  but  develops  his  doctrine  of  the  "  Un- 
knowable "  before  he  reaches  the  human  Ego,  and  thus  his 


32  Prof.  Ernst  Haeckel. 

system  becomes  a  duality  which  denies  that  the  Ego  is  a 
correlate  of  the  known  or  knowable  world.  His  philosophy, 
therefore,  leaves  the  backbone  of  the  world  of  causal-se- 
quence broken  at  the  vital  point  where  the  objective  and 
subjective  unite  in  Humanity,  but  not  in  any  Unknowable. 
The  human  head  is  thus  fatally  dissevered  from  its  world- 
body.  That  is  to  say,  he  assumes  that  everything  is  only  a 
symbol  of  reality;  that  every  phenomenon  is  related  to  a 
"  noumenon  " ;  and  that  the  consciousness  of  man  is  not  a 
correlate  of  nerve  and  world  changes ;  and  so  between  the 
world  and  man  lies  an  unaccountable  gulf,  which  is  an  open 
gateway  through  which  Eiske  and  Wallace  and  the  clerical 
and  spiritual  "mediums"  have  (doubtless  contrary  to  his 
intention)  brought  back  the  whole  ghostly  tribe  of  entities 
and  spirits,  gods  and  devils,  to  torture  and  rob  the  human 
race  again.  The  trouble  is,  that  Mr.  Spencer,  in  assuming 
an  "  infinite  and  eternal  energy  "  back  of  "  all  things,"  an  ab- 
solutely unknowable,  inscrutable,  unhuman  noumenon,  has 
lost  his  grip  on  the  infinite  and  eternal  causal  concatenation 
of  things.  He  has  run  science  ashore  on  the  old  sand  and 
fog  bank  of  superstition.  There  is  nothing  to  do  but  to 
pull  off,  and  to  change  our  course  under  the  true  lights  and 
verifiable  methods  of  the  correlation  of  "  all  things."  * 

Let  us  be  thankful,  then,  that  there  is  one  complete  evo- 
lutionist who  knows  that  there  is  "  a  causal  sequence  of  phe- 
nomena "  from  the  farthest  star  up  to  and  including  the  mind 
of  man ;  and  that  phenomena  are  not  metaphysical  appear- 
ances or  "  symbols,"  but  facts,  events,  changes,  processes, 
realities !  This  avowal  of  the  universality  of  the  law  of 
equivalence  and  correlation  in  the  works  of  Prof.  Haeckel 
renders  them  epoch-making  books  in  philosophy  and  reli- 
gion as  well  as  in  science.  According  to  that  law,  which 
has  no  limit,  no  exception  (not  even  of  the  human  con- 
sciousness or  Ego),  THE  WORLD  is  ONE  ;  this  doctrine  is  MO- 
NISM. All  of  the  world's  changes  are  held  together  by  this 
one  fundamental  law  of  causal  correlation,  from  our  mind 
that  thinks  (the  true  noumenon),  ever  on  in  boundless  space 
and  time.  Others  had  said  the  same  thing  partially,  or  in 
whispers.  Haeckel  said  it  boldly,  and  with  an  evident  de- 

*  It  may  seem  ungracious  to  refer  thus  to  the  "  Prophecies  "  of  Newton,  the 
"Papacy"  of  Comte,  the  "Spiritism"  of  Wallace,  and  the  "Unknowable"  of 
Spencer  and  Fiske.  But  the  errors  of  great  men  do  great  harm.  Gratitude  to 
them  for  their  pre-eminent  services,  and  protection  from  the  harm  of  their  errors, 
both  require  a  fearless  appeal  to  science,  evolution,  and  their  practical  results. 
Sufficient  time  has  passed  to  show,  in  the  opinion  of  the  writer,  that  none  of  the 
ideas  above  quoted  can  stand  such  an  appeal. 


Prof.  Ernst  Haeckel  33 

termination  to  endure  the  consequences.  The  religious  and 
political  leaders  of  Germany  were  therefore  not  a  little  agi- 
tated when  he  came  forward  at  the  Association  of  German 
Naturalists  and  Physicians  at  Munich,  in  the  autumn  of 
1877,  with  a  paper  that  actually  favored  the  practical  teach- 
ing of  evolutionary  science  and  philosophy  instead  of  the 
old-time  theories.  Thereupon,  before  the  same  assembly,  as 
we  have  stated,  Virchow  was  put  to  the  front  to  defend  the 
conservative,  or  status  in  quo  position,  against  the  incom- 
ing tide  of  evolution  and  monism.  Haeckel  replied,  in  a 
discourse  known  to  the  world  as  the  book  on  Freedom  in 
Science  and  Teaching.  Together  with  Prof.  Huxley's 
careful  introduction,  it  should  be  familiar  to  all  our  readers. 
By  this  discussion  the  thinking  world  was  brought  face  to 
face  with  monism  as  a  philosophy,  and  thoughtful  men 
everywhere  are  trying  to  answer  the  question,  Can  it 
stand  ? 

Prof.  Haeckel  has  chosen  this  term  monism,  so,  as  he 
says,  to  break  away  from  the  errors  of  the  past,  as  indicated 
by  the  terms  theism,  materialism,  spiritualism,  etc.,  and 
also  from  complications  pro  or  con  with  other  modern  phi- 
losophies, such  as  the  positivism  of  Comte,  the  synthetism  of 
Spencer,  and  the  cosmism  of  Fiske,  with  whose  systems  any 
evolutionary  philosophy  must  be  nearly  allied.  But  he 
prefers  a  new  name  and  a  fresh  start,  and  takes  it  accord- 


)th  in  Europe  and  in  America  monism  has  already  a  con- 
siderable and  an  influential  following.  The  weekly  paper 
and  quarterly  review,  The  Open  Court  and  The  Monist, 
under  the  very  able  editorship  of  Dr.  Paul  Carus,  of  Chi- 
cago, are  devoted  to  the  new  philosophy,  and  may  be  taken 
as  illustrations  of  the  hold  and  ground  which  this  new 
phase  of  scientific  thought  is  gaining  in  America  and  else- 
where. "We  can  no  longer  ignore  it  or  be  indifferent  to  it. 
We  must  squarely  meet  the  question,  Can  it  stand  ?  * 

Monism  claims  to  be  the  last  and  most  consistent  word  of 
science  in  philosophy.  As  above  noted,  it  grows  out  of  the 
extended  application  of  the  fundamental  law  of  science — 
that  of  the  equivalence  and  correlation  of  all  knowable  phe- 
nomena or  changes  possible  to  the  whole  world — thus  bind- 
ing it  all  together  ad  infinitum  as  a  unity.  The  advocates 

*  Fundamental  Problems,  by  Dr.  Paul  Carus,  published  by  The  Open  Court 
Company,  Chicago  (price,  $1),  is  the  important  opening  work  on  monism  in 
America. 


34  Prof.  Ernst  Haeckel. 

of  this  philosophy  are  waiting  for  some  one  to  bring  forward 
.good  reasons  for  not  assenting  to  this  completed  phi- 
losophy of  science. 

Let  us  see  how  it  stands :  The  world  is  divided,  as  Aris- 
totle of  old  said  it,  into  matter,  not  living,  and  living.  How 
does  this  doctrine  apply  to  each?  In  the  inorganic  or 
material  world,  or  world  of  not  living  matter,  this  law  of 
the  equivalence  and  correlation  of  changes  or  phenomena  is 
universally  accepted.  The  volume  of  essays  by  Grove  and 
others,  on  The  Correlation  and  Conservation  of  Forces,  col- 
lected years  ago  by  our  friend  Prof.  E.  L.  Youmans  (pub- 
lished by  D.  Appleton  &  Co.),  swept  the  field  and  prepared 
the  way  for  monism  in  this  country.  That  is  the  sub- 
stance of  the  story  of  our  science,  both  of  the  least  and 
of  the  greatest  world-changes ;  they  are  all  "  correlates." 
The  pull  or  push  and  the  consequent  motions,  revolutions, 
and  changes  of  our  sun  and  of  the  solar  system — are  they 
not  the  correlates  of  other  far-off  celestial  changes?  Our 
earth  and  its  surface,  and  all  that  takes  place  upon  it — are 
these  phenomena  not  correlates  of  the  solar  heat  ?  Those 
mechanical  and  other  changes  as  to  the  masses  of  matter  of 
which  we  read  in  physics,  as  to  its  elements,  of  which  chem- 
istry informs  us,  and  its  modes  of  motion  or  processes,  called 
heat,  light,  electricity,  etc. — are  they  not  correlates  all  ?  As 
to  non-living  matter,  the  question,  therefore,  is  settled. 

Next,  as  to  living  matter,  or  protoplasm,  known  only  on 
the  surface  of  our  little  earth,  yet  the  most  wonderful  of  all 
substances,  "  the  physical  basis  of  life  " — can  there  be  a  dif- 
ferent verdict?  Its  chemistry  shows  it  to  be  a  nitro-carbon 
in  unstable  chemical  equilibrium  (C,  0,  H,  N",  P,  and  S).  Its 
changes  are  not  only  those  chemical  and  physical  changes 
attending  other  colloid  or  jelly  forms  of  matter,  but  they 
include  that  wonderful  process  called  life,  which  is  the  con- 
stant adjustment,  reaction,  and  interaction  of  the  organic 
mass,  with  its  environment,  including  the  processes  of  as- 
similation, growth,  and  division  into  cells  and  special  or- 
gans. But  these  vital  processes  are  manifest  correlations  of 
the  changes  occurring  in  the  body  of  the  organism  and  in 
the  course  of  its  ancestral  development,  or  in  the  environ- 
ment. Protoplasm  is  the  material  upon  which  the  impinging 
world  environment  plays  the  music  of  life  and  ultimately 
the  symphony  of  consciousness.  That  life-music  is  the  cor- 
relate of  the  two  series  of  changes — viz.,  the  protoplasmic 
changes  and  the  world  changes.  Life  is  not  an  entity,  a 


Prof.  Ernst  HaecM.  35 

substance,  or  spirit,  or  ghost,  or  spook ;  still  less  is  con- 
sciousness such  an  entity.  The  latter  as  a  correlate  is  sui 
generis.  But  if  it  must  be  compared  to  anything,  let  it  be 
not  to  any  gas  or  material  substance,  however  impalpable, 
but  to  the  imponderable  agencies  or  forces — electricity,  heat, 
light,  etc.  The  life  of  man  is  a  process  resembling  electric 
phenomena  more  than  a  rarefied  gas,  but  it  is  distinctly  cor- 
related with  certain  physical  conditions,  and  neither  a  gas, 
ether,  nor  electricity,  nor  anything  but  itself  ;  and  we  must 
get  rid  of  such  gross  materialism  in  dealing  with  the  subject 
as  that  involved  in  the  conception  that  life  is  a  substantial 
entity.  A  state  of  consciousness  is  not  a  property  or  qual- 
ity, or  even  a  process  of  matter,  but  a  sui  generis  correlate 
of  such  processes,  and  in  no  sense  one  of  them  or  like  them 
else  it  could  not  be  their  correlate.* 

We  must  also  thoroughly  recover  from  the  crude  idea 
that  correlates  are  mechanical  mixtures,  or  we  shall  be  ma- 
terialists or  spiritualists  and  not  understand  monism.  The 
law  is,  that  no  correlate  ever  resembles  its  antecedent  cor- 
relates, but  is  entirely  distinct  from  them.  For  instance, 
water  is  the  result  of  the  chemical  combination  of  oxygen 
and  hydrogen  gases,  but  is  entirely  different  from  them,  and 
so  it  is  with  every  other  chemical,  vital,  or  mental  process 
and  product. 

In  regard  to  vital  and  social  phenomena,  they  are  in  a 
still  higher  degree  disparate  and  entirely  different  from, 
and  wholly  incomparable  with,  the  materials  and  changes 
from  which  they  result.  There  is  no  "  music  "  in  the  player 
or  the  piano,  nor  in  the  vibration  of  the  air  caused  by  the 
playing  ;  but  the  correlate  of  that  vibration,  as  it  affects  our 
nervous  system,  is  the  state  of  consciousness  which  we  call 
music ;  and  it  resembles  nothing  whatever  which  has  pro- 
duced it,  not  even  the  changes  in  the  nerve-cells  imme- 
diately preceding  or  attending  the  consciousness.  The  pas- 
sage from  the  physiological  change  to  its  psychical  cor- 
relate, as  Prof.  Tyndall  says  in  his  Belfast  address,  is  "  un- 
thinkable," but  yet,  as  he  says,  it  is  a  correlate ;  it  "  has  its 
correlative  in  the  physics  of  the  brain  " — and  that  is  the  all- 
important  fact.f  All  correlations  are  in  the  same  sense 

*  "  My  final  conclusion,  then,  about  the  substantial  soul  is  that  it  explains  noth- 
ing and  guarantees  nothing.  Its  successive  thoughts  are  the  only  intelligible  and 
verifiable  things  about  it,  and  definitely  to  ascertain  the  correlations  of  these 
with  brain-processes  is  as  much  as  psychology  can  empirically  do."  (Principles 
of  Psychology,  Chap.  X,  by  Prof.  William  James,  of  Harvard  University.) 

t  See  his  Fragments  of  Science,  fifth  edition  (Appleton's),  pp.  419,  420,  463,  524, 
and  to  the  end  of  the  volume. 


36  Prof.  Ernst  Haeckel 

"  unthinkable."  The  music  sensation  is  the  resultant,  the 
unthinkable  correlate,  of  just  such  a  concomitant  nerve- 
change,  and  no  other  ;  and  that  nerve-change  dep'ends  upon 
the  correlation  of  the  whole  world,  which  stands  behind  and 
accompanies  it.  The  consciousnesses  of  man,  and  the  co- 
operation by  which  they  become  the  Ego,  may  be  called  the 
felt  music  which  the  world  constantly  plays  on  our  nervous 
systems,  sensitive  and  quivering  with  their  own  unstable  and 
assimilative  life  processes.  Or,  to  say  it  again,  like  the  color 
music,  when  the  apparently  solid  rainbow  springs  from  the 
falling  drops  as  the  sunlight  plays  upon  them.  That  the 
psychical  changes  are  "  co-related  "  to  the  physical  changes  in 
the  nerves,_  Mr.  Spencer  would  doubtless  admit,  but  the 
correlation  is  only  complete  when  we  take  into  account  the 
generally  omitted  factor,  the  world  environment,  which 
really  plays  the  music.  Speculations  on  this  subject  are 
generally  vitiated  by  the  omission  of  or  failure  to  realize  this 
factor. 

Thus  it  is  in  the  organic  world  of  nerve-action,  and  the 
mental  world  of  consciousness,  correlation  is  the  bond  of 
unlikes.  Nor  less  is  it  true  in  sociology.  The  "  body  cor- 
porate and  political,"  the  Leviathan,  as  Hobbes  calls  it,  exists 
as  the  co-operation  of  all  the  individuals  and  sub-organiza- 
tions which  compose  it  and  influence  its  action.  But  the 
city,  county,  state,  and  nation  is  not  to  be  found  by  any 
analysis  of  those  parts.  There  is  no  city  or  quality  of  a  city 
in  any  one  citizen — no  "teaminess"  in  one  ox.  Yet  we 
have  anarchists  constantly  reminding  us  that  the  whole 
can  not  be  greater  than  all  its  parts !  Just  as  though  it 
could  be  anything  like  them,  or  they  greater  than  it  or 
like  it? 

It  is  necessary  to  bear  in  mind  this  law  of  the  unlikeness 
of  inseparable  correlates,  or  monism  can  never  be  under- 
stood. When  it  is  understood,  the  ever-varying  world  is 
made  one,  and  is  at  the  same  time  unlocked  by  it.  Haeckel 
has  beautifully  illustrated  this  law  in  biology,  where  he  has 
frequently  made  discoveries  that  would  make  the  fortune 
and  fame  of  ordinary  naturalists.  Take,  for  instance,  his 
Evolution  of  Man,  and  follow  the  relations  of  the  race  in 
history  and  of  the  individual  in  embryo  through  the  twenty- 
two  stages.  (On  pages  44  and  189,  vol.  ii,  of  the  Evolution 
of  Man.)  _The  formation  of  cells  is  correlated  to  their  past 
and  to  their  environment  in  the  four  simpler  states.  Then 
the  inner  and  outer  skins  change  forms,  and  develop  into  four 


Prof.  Ernst  HaecM.  37 

other  and  higher  stages.  Then  come  the  vertebrates  in  six 
grand  divisions  ;  then  the  mammals  in  eight  higher  classes, 
ending  in  man.  Then  every  organ  of  the  human  system — 
the  eye,  ear,  heart,  lungs,  etc. — is  traced  back  to  its  original 
formation,  and  its  changes  are  given  till  it  evolves  into  its 
present  form.  The  masterly  way  in  which  this  is  done  we 
can  hardly  appreciate  until  we  see  it  restated  by  other  com- 
petent naturalists ;  for  instance,  in  a  pamphlet  which  I  hold 
in  my  hand,  by  Prof.  Lester  F.  Ward,  of  the  Smithsonian 
Institution  of  Washington,  entitled  Haeckel's  Genesis  of 
Man,  which  I  hope  you  may  see,  and  which  you  may  doubt- 
less obtain  from  him  on  application. 

But  still  more  wonderful  than  this  physical  correlation  is 
the  constant  increase  of  the  mental  correlation  in  proportion 
to  the  rise  and  complexity  of  the  physical  organization  of 
animals  until,  finally,  the  highest  individual  manhood  and 
socially  the  highest  civilization  is  reached.  Each  of  the 
twenty-two  steps  which  lead  from  protoplasm  to  man  has 
its  "  soul,"  the  psychical  correlate  of  its  own  physical  state, 
its  conditions,  and  its  world  environment.  In  all  this 
Haeckel  follows  the  plain  intimation  and  conclusion  of  Dar- 
win, and  leaves  the  world  of  matter,  life,  and  mind  a  unity 
and  not  a  duality.  He  traces  mental  evolution  back  to  the 
protozoa,  and  thence,  step  by  step,  up  to  the  highest  "  crea- 
tions "  of  Shakespeare  or  Goethe.  There  is  no  break,  no 
duality  in  this  world,  and  no  limit  to  its  correlated  phenom- 
ena. The  is  is  ever  the  child  of  the  was.  There  is  no  cre- 
ation other  than  causal,  efficient,  inevitable  correlation.  In 
nature  every  transaction  is  a  reality — a  complete  effect  and 
cause.  Phenomena  are  not  appearances  in  the  sense  of  being 
symbols  of  an  unknowable  reality,  as  Herbert  Spencer  and 
his  agnostic  disciples  would  make  us  believe,  but  they  are 
actual  events  of  which  our  sensation  is  a  direct  correlate. 
There  can  be,  therefore,  no  "  unknowable,"  for  everything, 
including  the  mind  of  man,  being  a  correlate  of  every  other 
thing,  may  be  brought  into  correlation  with  it  and  with  our 
consciousness.  The  unknown  may  be  practically  affirmed 
to  be  infinite,  but  there  is  no  break  in  or  duality  between 
the  mind  of  man  and  the  world  of  which  it  is  a  correlative 
part. 

To  the  agnosticism  of  Huxley  and  Dr.  Oarus  as  a  confes- 
sion of  intellectual  modesty,  monism  would  answer,  Yes.  To 
that  of  Spencer  (or  Huxley)  as  an  assertion  of  an  unknow- 
able "  entity,"  "  energy  "  or  "  power,"  back  of  phenomena, 


145817 


38  Prof.  Ernst  HaecM. 

"from  whence  all  things  proceed,"  and  beyond  possible  cor- 
relation and  knowledge — decidedly,  No  !  * 

By  the  same  law,  the  spiritism  of  Wallace  and  the  super- 
natural beings  and  entities  of  theologians  and  metaphysi- 
cians are  simply  impossible.  They  are  all  illusions,  or  the 
results  of  illusions  or  delusions,  which  have  been  explained 
or  are  to  be  explained  by  science.  The  verdict  of  the  law  of 
scientific  correlation  remands  them  at  once  to  the  limbo  of 
all  spooks — the  world  of  the  imagination.  You  might  as  well 
argue,  in  favor  of  the  astronomy  of  Ptolemy  because  the 
sun  rises  in  the  east,  as  to  argue  in  favor  of  the  existence 
of  disembodied  ghosts  because  of  the  common  illusions  of 
our  senses.  There  are  illusions,  delusions,  and  frauds,  natu- 
rally enough  and  in  abundance,  but  there  can  be  no  genu- 
ine "  spiritual  phenomena."  There  is  no  chance  of  a  pos- 
sibility for  such  a  thing  as  a  spirit,  a  ghost,  or  Spencer's 
unknowable  "  entity"  to  exist,  for  there  is  nothing  left  over, 
and  no  chance-work  possible  between  correlations  under 
this  law  of  correlation.  Existence  and  correlation  are  one 
and  the  same  thing.  There  can  be  no  life  to  come,  except 
as  it  may  be  a  correlate  of  this  life.  There  can  be  no  dual- 
ity in  the  universe.  Belief  in  duality  is  a  sin  against  sci- 
ence. Everything,  ad  infinitum,  is  conceivable  as  correla- 
tion, and  therefore  it  is  reality  or  nothing.  There  is  no  possi- 
ble room  for  an  extra-mundane  God,  a  ghost,  or  a  spook  any 
way  or  anywhere  The  true  God  is  the  totality  of  the  corre- 
lated universe — the  divine  reality.  The  monistic  concep- 
tion is  not  of  a  "  first  cause,"  "  power,"  or  "  energy  "  outside 
of  all  things, "  from  whence  all  things  flow,"  but  that  the  only 
cause  and  causes  are  in  things — all  things.  Every  change 
is  effect  and  cause  in  never-ending  correlation,  of  which  no 
exception  or  limit  is  conceivable.  The  phenomenal  world  is 
a  reality  having  its  noumenon  in  the  human  intellect,  its 
correlate  and  its  interpreter. 

Such  is  the  philosophy  of  monism.  In  it  we  have  the 
philosophy  of  Bruno,  Spinoza,  and  Goethe  extended  and 
made  exact  by  the  discoveries  of  modern  science — the  inde- 
structibility of  matter  and  the  equivalence  and  correlation 
of  all  knowable  world-changes  or  "  forces,"  as  they  are  some- 
times _  dangerously  called,  for  some  people  are  in  danger  of 
thinking  of  force  as  an  entity  and  not  a  change. 

*  See  Fundamental  Problems,  by  Dr.  Paul  Carus,  especially  the  chapter  on 
Agnosticism  and  Phenomenalism.  The  Stronghold  of  Mysticism,  pp.  137-154- 
162,  and  passim.  See,  also.  Discussion  on  the  Nature  and  Reality  of  Religion, 
between  Herbert  Spencer  and  Frederick  Harrison,  pp.  35,  166,  172,  and  passim. 


Prof.  Ernst  HaecTcel  39 

But  if  this  philosophy  must  stand,  where  are  we  ?  "What 
is  left  for  human  consolation?  Well,  things  may  not  be 
so  very  bad,  after  all.  "  There  is  no  wisdom  save  in 
truth."  We  used  to  be  frightened  by  ghost  stories,  but 
now  people  seem  to  be  frightened  when  science  tells  them 
that  they  are  realities  and  not  spooks.  They  seem  to  think 
that  life  becomes  too  terrifically  earnest  when  we  consider 
it  so,  and  a  •  flight  back  into  some  "  unknowable "  mys- 
tery is  sought  as  a  relief — much  as  we  seek  shade  from  the 
glare  of  the  sun.  When  each  Ego  sees  itself  as  the  burn- 
ing point  where  the  infinite  world  correlates  into  conscious- 
ness, it  naturally  at  first  looks  around  for  a  more  modest 
and  less  responsible  position.  But,  again,  correlation  is  our 
refuge  and  defense.  The  freedom  of  the  will  is  the  grate- 
ful illusion  which  gives  us  a  little  world  of  our  own,  by 
which  we  relieve  our  fatality  and  bring  our  light  to  bear 
upon  the  great  objective  world,  and  weave  our  existence 
into  it  as  a  satisfying  immortal  creative  power.  Thus,  life 
is  worth  living,  and  insures  immortality  by  its  beneficence ; 
thus,  religion  and  morals  receive  a  solid,  scientific  founda- 
tion. For  the  'will,  scientifically  explained,  becomes  the 
basis  of  the  world  of  human  effort — our  subjective  world. 

The  freedom  of  the  will  results  as  a  practical  fact  from 
the  law  that  correlations  are  distinct  from  each  other.  The 
will,  as  a  faculty  of  the  life,  mind,  or  soul,  has,  and  can  have, 
no  consciousness  of  its  own  origin,  and  so  is,  as  to  itself,  free. 
As  such,  it  acts  apparently  independently  in  the  order  of 
affairs,  and  counts  for  much  (in  Prof.  Huxley's  phrase)  "  in 
the  order  of  events."  In  this  way  it  becomes  the  founda- 
tion of  morals  and  discipline  and  practical  life.  In  a  simi- 
lar way,  the  rising  of  the  sun  in  the  east  founds  our  practi- 
cal almanacs  and  daily  duties ;  but  objectively  the  sun  does 
not  rise  at  all ;  so  our  will  is  disclosed  by  science  to  be  a  re- 
sult of  our  own  life  and  mind  and  the  world  about  us.  Thus 
will,  free  as  a  correlate,  becomes  the  base  of  moral  relations ; 
but  all  those  relations  are  shown  by  science  to  be  subject 
to  objective  law,  which  underlies  the  human  will  just  as  it 
does  the  "  rising  sun."  The  illusions  are  explained,  the 
lights  remain ! 

The  objections  to  this  monistic  philosophy  generally 
come  from  those  who  fail  to  comprehend  or  to  realize  the 
free-will  and  moral  results  of  its  fundamental  laws  of  corre- 
lation, and  especially  the  fact  that  no  correlate  resembles  its 
antecedent  correlates.  Prof.  Haeckel  is  by  no  means  clear 


40  Prof.  Ernst  Haeckel 

of  confusing  expressions.  For  instance,  he  speaks  of  "  me- 
chanical life  phenomena,"  "  atom  soul,"  all  matter  being 
considered  "  equally  living,"  "  molecule  soul,"  "  carbon  soul," 
etc.,  which  enable  objectors  like  Virchow  and  others  to  ob- 
tain the  only  advantage  they  have  ever  obtained  in  their 
discussions  with  him.  But  until  life  and  mind  are  found 
to  be  the  correlate  of  non-living  matter,  and  not  of  the  or- 
ganic action  of  protoplasm  only,  such  expressions  by  Prof. 
Haeckel  and  other  monists  are  to  be  limited  to  the  proto- 
plasmic matter — the  brains  of  animals,  where  only  sentiency 
and  thought  do  exist.  Otherwise  they  are  simply  poetical 
expressions  as  though  they  were  used  by  the  poets  Goethe 
or  Wordsworth,  or  by  Comte,  "  subjectively,"  as  when,  for 
"  worship  "  purposes,  he  styles  the  earth  "  Le  grand  fetich." 
So  the  word  "  mechanical "  is  often  used  by  Haeckel  to 
mean  natural,  causal,  correlative.  Objectors  who  have  noth- 
ing better  than  criticisms  of  such  verbal  errors  of  expression 
have  need  to  remember  logician  Mill's  rule  of  safety  in  such 
discussions,  viz. :  "  Unless  you  refute  your  opponent  at  his 
best,  you  are  refuted  by  him."  Haeckel  is  a  German  and  a 
specialist,  and  thus,  as  a  monist,  may  have  sometimes  hazy 
or  limited  modes  of  expression  and  exposition,  but,  at  his 
best,  he  stands  on  the  verified,  irrefragable,  invincible,  inex- 
pugnable law  which  makes  realities  of  and  unifies  the  facts 
and  processes  of  the  whole  world,  and  compels  us  to  conceive 
the  world  as  an  objective  unity,  and  not  as  a  duality.  There- 
fore, until  this  law  of  correlation  can  be  shown  to  have  a 
limit  or  an  exception,  the  philosophy  of  monism  stands  im- 
pregnable ;  and  Haeckel,  who  gave  it  this  name  and  recog- 
nized its  scientific  completeness,  is  rightfully  regarded  as  its 
latest  leading  champion. 

For,  thirdly,  Prof.  Haeckel  is  prominent  as  a  religionist 
and  a  reformer-prophet. 

The  position  of  Prof.  Haeckel  as  a  leading  naturalist  and 
philosopher  would  doubtless  be  gracefully  acknowledged  by 
the  conservative  and  even  the  retrograde  influences  if  he 
would  not,  as  he  does  on  every  fitting  occasion,  lift  up  the 
voice  of  &  prophet  and  insist  that  this  "  monism  "  is  also  a 
religion.  In  a  word,  that  it  is  the  future  Eeligion  of  Science 
and  Humanity,  now  in  its  nascent  state.  This  fact  makes 
him  a  sort  of  terror  to  the  spiritual,  political,  and  temporal 
"  powers  that  be,"  and  a  subject  of  greater  interest  to  us. 
For  if  the  philosophy  of  monism  is  scientifically  sound  there 
is  no  escape  from  monism  as  the  religion  of  scientific  people 


Prof.  Ernst  HaecM.  41 

— that  is,  of  people  really  intelligent  on  this  subject.  All 
religion  has  been  very  well  defined  as  some  philosophy  of  the 
world  applied  in  practice  and  warmed  by  the  consequent 
emotions.  Our  morality  we  may  then  call  our  individual 
practice  of  such  religion  in  social  life  and  intercourse. 
Back  of  every  religion,  therefore,  lies  some  view  and  theory 
of  the  world,  a  cosmology  or  philosophy,  by  which  each  peo- 
ple or  sect  ciphers  out,  as  best  it  can,  some  tolerable  rela- 
tion to  the  mighty  world  and  the  social  organism  and  all 
their  fellow  human  beings.  We  find  the  religious  history 
of  our  race  to  consist,  therefore,  of  a  gradual  evolution  of 
its  leading  peoples  from  a  broad  base  of  general  animism 
and  fetichism,  thence  to  astrology,  thence  to  polytheism, 
thence  to  monotheism,  and  thence  to  scientism,  expressed 
chiefly  to  us  in  the  pantheism  of  Goethe,  the  positivism  of 
Comte,  the  synthetism  of  Spencer,  the  cosmism  of  Fiske, 
and  finally  by  the  monism  of  Haeckel.  He  proposed  this 
word  monism  as  expressive  of  the  world-unifying  law  of 
science,  as  the  summary  of  all  that  was  true  and  good  in 
the  other  philosophic  names  proposed  by  the  philosophers 
just  named,  while  it  excluded  what  he  regards  as  the  crude 
and  vulgar  notions  of  materialism,  spiritualism,  and  dualism. 
Our  professor  is  very  brave,  like  many  Germans,  in  in- 
venting new  words  instead  of  adding  new  meanings  or 
shades  of  meaning  to  old  ones.  If  scientific  people  would 
take  religiously  to  this  name,  monism,  it  would  certainly 
help  to  clear  up  things  wonderfully,  for  it  excludes  at  once 
a  mass  of  old  errors  and  misconceptions  which  will  hang 
around  the  old  words  ;  but  to  many  it  is  just  this  protective 
twilight  of  uncertainty  in  philosophy  and  religion — half 
concealing  and  half  revealing — which  makes  old  names, 
symbols,  and  ideas  alternately  repelling  and  attractive,  tan- 
talizing and  comforting.  Our  monist  prophet  has  brought 
us  well  out  of  this  twilight,  and  the  situation  looks  better 
the  clearer  it  is  seen.  Every  clear  view  of  the  world  is  fol- 
lowed by  a  sincere  conviction,  and  such  conviction  becomes 
a  "  faith  "  and  an  enduring  well-spring  of  energy  and  con- 
solation. Monism  in  that  view  rises  above  all  religions  as 
the  culmination  of  all.  If  anything  can  be,  it  is  the  uni- 
versal faith.  Because  it  is  based  upon  verified  science,  it  is 
positive  monism;  because  it  depends  upon  the  objective 
anity  of  the  world,  it  is  monistic  positivism.  By  one  name 
or  another  the  highest  scientific  solution  of  the  world,  so- 
ciety, and  man,  when  scientific  methods  are  carried  to  their 


42  Prof.  Ernst  HaecM. 

final  results  over  every  known  domain,  must  result  in  a  sci- 
entific faith. 

This  scientific  faith,  or  faith  according  to  knowledge,  is 
certainly  the  rising  faith  of  mankind.  It  received  its  solid, 
everlasting  foundation  when  Copernicus,  Bruno,  and  Gali- 
leo gave  us  the  true  solar  system,  which  revealed  to  us  a 
new  earth  and  a  new  heaven,  and  consequently  a  new 
philosophy,  finally  to  lead  to  this  new  religion.  From  Des- 
cartes, Spinoza,  Bacon,  and  Diderot,  Goethe  received  this 
new  world  of  science,  barren  and  forlorn,  as  it  rose  out  of 
the  chaos  of  the  French  revolution.  He  was  the  first  great 
creative  and  furnishing  soul  that  fully  moved  into  it  to 
stay.  He  peopled  it  with  enduring  and  even  human  char- 
acters, sowed  the  seed  to  cover  the  naked  landscape  with  use 
and  beauty,  and  made  the  very  clouds  glow  with  a  light  that 
foretold  a  higher  heaven  than  Iramanity  had  ever  dreamed. 

Haeckel  is  fond  of  quoting  Goethe  ;  and  well  he  may  be. 
As  we  recede  in  time,  the  distance  brings  out,  mountain- 
like,  the  true  height  of  this  poet-prophet  of  the  new  faith 
of  the  new  era.  We  begin  to  see  how  he,  in  science,  had  a 
sure  prevision  of  the  results  of  our  evolution ;  in  politics, 
he  discounted  the  French  revolution  and  the  metaphysical 
anarchy  of  his  and  even  of  our  time ;  in  religion,  he  rightly 
estimated  all  the  theologies,  and  sung  the  emancipation  of 
erring  man  (Faust),  from  the  very  devil  to  whom  he  had 
sold  himself,  and  the  conquest  of  a  heaven  of  ever-increas- 
ing progress  and  blessedness  by  his  own  victorious  striving 
to  accomplish  the  good.  In  a  wonderful  poem  called  In- 
heritance ( Vermdchtniss)  Goethe  expressly  dates  the  new 
era  from  "  the  sage  who  showed  the  earth  to  circle  around 
the  sun  and  taught  her  sister  orbs  their  paths." 

These  triumphs  of  astronomy,  followed  by  similar  prog- 
ress in  physics  and  chemistry,  made  sure  the  material 
foundation  of  the  scientific  faith  at  the  close  of  the  last 
century.  Our  century  opened  with  the  great  triumphs  in 
biology,  or  the  organic  world,  led  by  Oken,  Goethe,  and 
especially  the  unappreciated  Lamarck.  They  laid  the  foun- 
dation of  the  new  faith  in  the  vital  world,  upon  which  Dar- 
win and  Haeckel  have  well-nigh  completed  the  structure. 
From  Lamarck's  Philosophic  Zoologique  (1809)  Haeckel 
quotes  this  biological  foundation  in  a  useful  summary,  as 
follows  (History  of  Creation,  vol.  i,  p.  112) : 

"  The  systematic  division  of  classes,  orders,  families, 
genera,  and  species,  as  well  as  their  designations,  are  the 


Prof.  Ernst  HaecM.  43 

arbitrary  and  artificial  productions  of  man.  The  kinds  or 
species  of  prganisms  are  of  unequal  age,  developed  one  after 
another,  and  show  only  a  relative  and  temporary  persist- 
ence. Species  arise  out  of  varieties.  The  differences  in  the 
conditions  of  life  have  a  modifying  influence  on  the  organi- 
zation, the  general  form,  and  the  parts  of  animals,  and  so 
has  the  use  or  disuse  of  organs.  In  the  first  beginning 
only  the  very  simplest  and  lowest  animals  and  plants  came 
into  existence ;  those  of  a  more  complex  organization  only 
at  a  later  period.  The  course  of  the  earth's  development, 
and  that  of  its  organic  inhabitants,  was  continuous,  not  inter- 
rupted by  violent  revolutions.  Life  is  purely  a  physical  phe- 
nomenon. All  the  phenomena  of  life  depend  on  mechanical, 
physical,  and  chemical  causes,  which  are  inherent  in  the 
nature  of  matter  itself.  The  simplest  animals  and  the 
simplest  plants,  which  stand  at  the  lowest  point  in  the  scale 
of  organization,  have  originated  and  still  originate  by  spon- 
taneous generation.  All  animate  natural  bodies  or  organ- 
isms are  subject  to  the  same  laws  as  inanimate  natural 
bodies  or  organs.  The  ideas  and  actions  of  the  understand- 
ing are  the  emotional  phenomena  of  the  central  nerve 
system.  The  will  is  in  truth  never  free.  Eeason  is  only 
a  higher  degree  of  development  and  combination  of  judg- 
ments." Thus  was  the  truth  spoken,  but  none  then  had 
ears  to  hear. 

Next  as  to  the  sociological  foundation  : 

In  1857  Auguste  Comte,  another  unappreciated  French- 
man, had  done  for  sociology  what  Copernicus  did  for  as- 
tronomy and  Lamarck  had  done  for  biology.  He  had 
named  and  outlined  and  misapplied  that  science.  He  dis- 
covered that  man  was  not  the  product  of  Nature  only,  but 
of  society  and  its  continuity  and  solidarity ;  that  there  was 
no  solution  of  man  without  society :  "  Entre  Vliomme  et  le 
monde  il  faut  Vhumanite"  Between  man  and  the  world, 
he  said,  there  lies,  and  there  is  need  of,  humanity,  as  the 
solution  of  the  world  and  the  saviour  of  man.  Comte,  if 
he  did  not  originate,  brought  into  order  the  first  positive 
philosophy,  and  on  it  founded  his  "  positive "  religion. 
We  have  from  him  some  indispensable  things  lying  at  the 
very  base  of  monism,  which,  because  of  his  papistic  notions, 
are  fatally  overlooked,  but  without  which  monism  can  not 
be  understood  or  appreciated,  viz. '. 

1.  A  truer  view  of  the  relativity  of  knowledge ;  that  it  re- 
lates to  man  and  not  to  any  objective  "  noumenon." 


44  Prof.  Ernst  Haeckel 

2.  A  true  correlative  classification  of  the  special  sciences, 
viz.,  astronomy,  physics,  chemistry,  biology,  sociology,  eth- 
ics, psychology  ;  that  is,  from  the  greater  and  general  to  the 
smaller  and  more  complex — i.  e.,  from  the  star- world  down 
to  the  mind  of  man. 

3.  The  law  of  the  "  three  states,"  or  of   "  deanthropo- 
morphization,"  as  John  Fiske  states  it  with  his  peculiar 
brevity.      That   is,   that   man's  philosophical   conceptions 
develop  from  theology  to  metaphysics,  and  finally  to  sci- 
ence. 

4.  The  supremacy  of  humanity ;  as  the  solution,  guaran- 
tor, and  chief  factor  of  human  life  and  human  affairs. 

5.  The  general  law  of  interdependence ;  that  the  higher 
rests  upon  the  lower,  buc  that  both  are  for  each  other. 

6.  That  rights  and  duties  are  the  two  sides  of  the  same 
relation  under  the  love,  order,  and  progress  of  scientific  so- 
ciology. 

The  French  people  are  slow  to  discover  their  great  men. 
Lamarck  and  Cointe  have  never  been  understood  by  theo- 
logical and  metaphysical  France ;  and  the  France  of  science, 
aside  from  narrow-minded  specialism,  has  yet  chiefly  to 
come. 

The  works  of  Herbert  Spencer  and  of  our  own  John 
Fiske  are  also  able  approaches  to  monism,  and  are  too  well 
known  in  this  country  to  require  lengthy  exposition  here. 
They  have  added  materially  to  the  better  understanding  of 
the  new  philosophy  and  religion  of  science,  and,  as  commen- 
taries upon  and  contributions  toward  it,  are  invaluable.  We 
have  noted  the  error  that  seems  to  many  common  to  them 
both,  so  plainly  pointed  out  and  dwelt  upon  by  Frederic 
Harrison,  the  English  positivist,  in  his  celebrated  religious 
discussions  with  Mr.  Spencer — viz.,  the  unwarranted  assump- 
tion of  an  unknowable  "  entity  "  or  "  energy  "  back  of  phe- 
nomena and  back  of  human  consciousness.  This  seems  to 
be  plainly  irreconcilable  with  the  doctrine  of  universal  corre- 
lation. And  that  it  is  as  plainly  "  unreligious  "  in  its  practi- 
cal consequences,  I  think  Mr.  Harrison  has  made  equally 
manifest  in  the  Discussion  referred  to. 

The  cosmic  emotion,  with  its  wonder,  awe,  and  venera- 
tion, is  excited  and  best  sustained  by  The  All — the  world  of 
correlation — and  not  by  any  "  energy  "  outside  of  it :  "  from 
whence  all  things  flow,"  as  Mr.  Spencer  tells  us.  The  "  all 
things  "  which  does  not  include  all  possible  "  energy  "  is  an 
incomplete  schedule.  "  Energy  "  is  a  correlated  part  of  "  all 


Prof.  Ernst  Haeckel  45 

things "  or  it  is  nothing.  It  is  this  uncorrelated  nothing 
which  is  the  nest-egg  of  all  superstition  and  which  breeds 
uncertainty  and  terror  instead  of  true,  healthy  world-wor- 
ship, the  cosmic  emotion  of  Goethe,  Shelley,  Byron,  Words- 
worth, and  of  the  modern  school  of  natural  poetry  and 
painting — the  proper  emotional  side  of  modern  science. 

Fortunately,  Prof.  Haeckel* is  not  bothered  by  the  "un- 
knowable noumenon,"  nor  was  Comte  or  Goethe.  All 
expressions  from  their  works  that  seem  to  imply  that  they 
placed  a  "  noumenon  "  outside  of  the  world,  mankind  or  the 
Ego,  are,  in  religion,  as  in  philosophy,  to  be  reconciled  with 
science  or  read  as  poetry.  As  scientists  and  religionists  they 
held  no  parley  with  "unknowable"  energies,  entities,  or 
spooks  of  any  kind,  following  strictly  Faust's  last  advice  to 
man: 

"  Wenn  Geister  spucken,  geh'  er  seinen  Gang." 
When  ghosts  spook,  let  him  go  straight  on  his  way. 


Or,  again 


1  Willst  du  in  Unendliches  schreiten  f 
Geh'  nur  in  eudlichen  nach  alien  Seiten  ! ' 
In  the  Infinite  wilt  thou  stray  f 
Through  the  Finite  take  thy  way ! 


The  astonishing  thing  about  Goethe,  Comte,  and  Haeckel 
is  that  they  in  religion  so  thoroughly  emancipated  them- 
selves from  theology  and  metaphysics ;  and  two  of  them 
were  Germans !  The  result  is,  that  they  and  their  school 
of  general  scientists  and  reformers  are,  as  we  enter  the  new 
era,  the  chief  sources  of  any  true  enlightenment  or  guidance, 
especially  in  religious,  social,  or  political  affairs.  Of  course 
these  men  are  in  no  sense  to  be  regarded  individually  as 
models,  but  they  had  reached  the  scientific,  historical  spirit, 
which  is  always  integrative,  saving,  and  yet  progressive. 
Take,  for  example,  Comte's  view  of  sociology  and  politics. 
These,  like  the  conception  of  God  and  every  other  subject, 
according  to  Comte's  law,  evolve  through  the  three  stages 
of  theology,  metaphysics,  and  science.  The  old  theologic 
phase  or  method  in  sociology  and  politics  is  that  of  divine 
command  or  authority.  "  Thus  saith  the  Lord,"  etc.  Then 
comes  the  metaphysical  stage  and  phase,  which  is  one  of 
defiance,  rights,  revolutions,  "  administrative  nihilism,"  re- 
fusal to  co-operate  or  do  anything  but  to  agitate,  fume,  and 
grumble.  This  spirit  of  anarchy,  now  rampant  among  our 
reformers,  is  in  many  respects  more  destructive  and  unpro- 


46  Prof.  Ernst  HaecM. 

gressive  than  the  old  principle  of  authority.  It  can  never 
agree  upon  any  proposition  for  social  reform  but  not  to 
do  it.  Eights  are  fatally  divorced  from  duties. 

But  there  is  a  third  view  and  spirit  in  regard  to  social 
and  political  affairs — a  spirit  of  science,  which  breathes  from 
the  works  of  the  great  men  we  have  named.  That  spirit  is 
evolutionary.  It  is  integrative  and  yet  differentiative,  con- 
servative and  yet  progressive — laying  the  sure  foundation  of 
the  real  liberty  and  welfare  of  the  individual  in  the  social, 
integrative  order,  which,  no  matter  what  the  form  of  govern- 
ment, can  alone  make  such  liberty  and  welfare  possible. 
Take,  for  instance,  Goethe's  remarkable  letter  from  the  Dorn- 
berg  Castle  in  1828,  to  which  we  have  referred,  on  the  death 
of  the  Duke,  upon  the  administration  of  the  little  world  of 
the  Duchy  of  Weimar,  and  compare  its  far-reaching  wisdom, 
resting  upon  the  continuity  and  solidarity  of  society,  with 
the  shallowness  of  the  French  social  philosophy  of  that  day 
or  of  our  current  metaphysical  anarchism.  Or  do  the  same 
with  the  sociology  of  Comte — excepting,  of  course,  his  pa- 
pistic Utopia,  which  belongs  only  to  the  past  polity  of  the 
Latin  races,  as  to  which  he  was  misled,  largely  by  De  Mais- 
tre's  work  on  the  Pope. 

Then  turn  to  the  latter  part  of  Haeckel's  Freedom  of 
Science  and  Teaching,  and  see  how  under  the  scientific 
spirit  he,  too,  preserves  the  integrative  and  the  differenti- 
ative sides  of  social  progress,  and  refuses  to  be  driven  into 
anarchy  by  the  taunts  of  Virchow,  who  evidently  sought  in 
that  way  to  compass  his  destruction.  Haeckel  had  never 
the  time  to  study  deeply  history,  law,  statesmanship,  or  poli- 
tics, yet  his  scientific  instinct  and  spirit  enabled  him  to 
apply  in  sociology  the  law  of  biology ;  that  true  progress 
in  the  social,  as  in  the  animal,  world  must  be  an  ever-in- 
creasing integration  of  the  functions  of  organs  ever  increas- 
ing in  their  freedom  of  individual  action.  This  law,  stated 
by  Goethe  fifty  years  ago  and  quoted  from  him  by  our  Carey 
as  the  basis  of  his  great  work  on  Social  Science,  is  just  as 
true  of  a  jelly-fish  as  of  an  elephant — of  a  Eoman  Empire 
as  of  a  man ;  it  is  true  of  every  social  organism ;  of  the  Re- 
public of  the  United  States,  or  of  the  Republic  of  the  World  ! 
If  some  intimation  of  this  law  could  reach  our  anarchistic 
reformers,  how  soon  their  metaphysical  bubbles  would  col- 
lapse ! 

Finally.— It  we  turn  to  the  treatment  of  the  religious 
progress  of  mankind  under  this  scientific  spirit  of  evolu- 


Prof.  Ernst  Haeckel.  47 

tion,  we  find  the  wisdom  and  influence  of  the  same  great 
men  a  source  of  real  health  and  strength.  They  only  give 
us  religion  without  the  superstition  of  theology  or  the  an- 
archy of  metaphysics.  It  seems  clear  that  from  them  and 
their  spirit  we  must  learn  or  go  on  from  bad  to  worse.  The 
religion  which  is  the  social,  integrative,  co-operative,  and 
saving  element  of  human  nature  can  no  longer  be  fed  and 
sustained  by  ghostly  gods,  spooky  devils,  categorical  im- 
peratives, or  inscrutable  unknowables.  Voltaire  (as  quoted 
on  the  title-page  of  his  Biography  by  James  Parton)  asks 
the  pertinent  question  which  he  could  not  answer : 

"  Tis  a  pity  to  spend  half  of  our  life  in  destroying  enchanted  castles. 
Far  better  to  establish  truths  than  to  examine  lies — but  where  are 
the  truths?" 

Thanks  to  evolution,  the  truths  have  come  and  are  coming 
in  their  good  time.  Up  to  Voltaire's  day  the  known  world 
had  been  little  more  than  an  enchanted,  or  rather  ghost- 
haunted,  castle  of  existence.  His  German  successor,  Goethe, 
used  the  true  to  realize  the  good  and  beautiful.  He  ac- 
cepted this  life  in  the  monistic  spirit  as  the  real  fact,  and 
the  whole  world  and  God  as  one — The  All.  The  concep- 
tions of  God  from  the  Hebrew  prophets  down,  when  freed 
from  limitations  and  anthropomorphisms,  end  in  this  object- 
ive conception  of  God  as  The  All ;  not  as  a  ghost,  spirit,  or 
spook,  outside  of  the  universe,  but  as  reality  itself,  infinite 
and  eternal.  "We  have  thus  the  scientifically  revised  defi- 
nition :  God  is  the  world,  infinite,  eternal,  and  unchange- 
able in  its  being  and  in  its  laws,  but  ever  varying  in  its  cor- 
relations. 

Goethe,  by  true  and  grand  expressions  of  divine  and  cos- 
mic emotion,  raised  aloft  as  the  true  revelation  of  God  the 
monistic  concept  which  has  been  worked  out  by  the  modern 
objective  sciences  still  in  their  glorious  career  of  progress. 

The  next  great  fruitful  religious  development  of  our 
time  seems  to  come  from  the  Latin  race  through  the  word 
of  Comte,  that  the  true  Christ  is  Humanity  itself. 

"  Between  man  and  the  world  there  lies,  and  there  is  need 
of,  humanity";  this  can  not  be  repeated  too  often.  The 
organic  action  of  society  is  the  foundation  of  all  social  and 
individual  progress. 

Only  by  this  mediator  and  saviour>  Humanity,  is  there 
any  real  hope  or  salvation  for  the  individual.  Only  by  this 
Son  of  Man  and  of  God  can  we  come  unto  the  Father — the 


48  Prof.  Ernst  Haeckel. 

divine  universe.  Herbert  Spencer,  though  often  dissenting 
from  M.  Comte's  ideas,  bases  his  own  best  work  upon  his 
sociological  principles.  Notice,  for  instance,  his  splendid 
demonstration  of  the  organic  nature  of  society  and  history 
in  his  Sociology,  and  his  often-repeated  proof  that  the  "in- 
nate ideas"  are  the  results  of  race-inheritance  instead  of 
individual  experience.  In  all  such  cases  he  is  following  the 
line  of  the  great  inspirations  of  our  day,  which  are  based 
upon  the  continuity  and  solidarity  of  mankind.  Our  great 
American  patriots  and  orators  from  the  Revolution  to  Lin- 
coln, and  especially  in  the  grander  orations  of  Daniel  Web- 
ster, have  these  fundamental  ideas  and  sentiments  as  their 
inspiration.  The  generations  past  and  to  come  underlie, 
sustain,  and  consecrate  every  appeal  to  duty  and  patriotism. 

Thus,  as  the  conception  of  the  Christ  as  a  man,  under  evo- 
lutional criticism,  vanishes  from  history,  the  ideal  Messiah, 
which  gave  rise  to  the  belief  that  there  was  once  such  a 
man,  has  become  incarnated  in  the  history  and  fact  of  the 
evolution  of  the  race  itself,  revealing  it  as  our  ever-living 
Saviour. 

The  next  person  of  the  old  religious  Trinity  is  no  longer 
the  Holy  Ghost,  but  the  holy  life  of  man,  in  which  we  all 
partake,  and  which  is  the  most  precious  thing  in  the  world 
— human  life !  Its  co-operative  altruistic  power  is  our  true 
sustainer  and  "  comforter." 

The  "  Holy  Mother  "  of  the  Roman  faith  is  enlarged,  as 
in  the  concluding  line  of  Faust,  into  the  "  Eternal-woman- 
ly "  that  leads  humanity  ever  upward  and  on.  In  a  word, 
she  is  Womanhood — continuous,  replacing,  sustaining,  glori- 
fied as  "  Maiden,  Mother,  Queen,  and  Goddess." 

The  true  Bible  is  no  longer  those  old  Hebrew  and  Greek 
documents,  strangely  bound  together  as  one  book  ;  but  the 
books,  good  and  true,  of  the  whole  world  and  of  all  time. 

The  (Jreed  is  not  any  number  of  Church  Articles,  but  the 
conclusions  of  science,  ever  being  revised,  and  expressed  in 
a  positive  philosophy  as  the  best  description  of  the  know- 
able  world. 

Of  the  Heavens  and  Hells,  "  the  places  that  knew  them 
once  now  know  them  no  more."  But  in  the  misery  and 
joy,  the  remorse  and  blessedness  of  the  human  hearts  they 
have  their  new  location ;  and  between  them  stands  every 
day  as  the  Day  of  Judgment. 

There  is  scarcely  a  name,  symbol,  or  line  of  the  old  faiths 
which  can  not  be  thus  found  to  be  replaced  and  enlarged 


Prof.  Ernst  HaecM.  49 

by  the  new  and  true  view  of  the  world  and  of  human  life 
and  destiny. 

There  is  no  time  nor  need  to  continue  further  here  these 
old  religious  names,  once  believed  in  as  facts,  and  which  now 
are  of  value  only  as  symbols  of  the  grander  truths  since 
evolved,  but  which  they,  if  still  used,  may  express.  How  to 
thus  translate  them,  these  hints  only  must  suffice.  The 
illusions  depart,  the  truths  remain  ! 

When  the  old  religions  fall,  what  will  you  give  in  their 
place  ?  We  answer.  Religion  I  Look  around !  The  en- 
chanted castle  of  existence  of  the  past  was  but  a  half-seen, 
discolored  prophecy  of  the  truth  which  is  replacing  it,  with 
a  grandeur  and  a  reality  that  terrifies  the  soul  at  first.  Peo- 
ple are  frightened  when  science  tells  them  that  this  world 
is  the  real  one,  and  "  the  other  "  its  shadow.  -But  this  true 
world  includes  all — is  The  All !  It  brings  with  it  a  new  phi- 
losophy, religion,  morality,  life,  and  motive,  which  is  an  en- 
during well-spring  of  energy,  consolation,  and  hope — not  of 
pessimism  nor  optimism,  but  of  ever-victorious  meliorism. 

Do  not  as  an  ethical  society  fear  that  the  old  moral  lights 
will  be  blown  out  and  darkness  result.  The  true  scientific 
foundation  will  replace  the  old,  as  in  our  cities  the  scientific 
electric  light  has  come  to  take  the  place  of  the  old  smoky 
lamps.  To  secure  such  replacement,  throughout  the  whole 
individual  and  social  domain  of  human  affairs,  is  the  motive 
and  inspiration  of  those  scientists  who,  in  Europe  and  Amer- 
ica, put  their  conclusions  before  the  people  in  the  simplest 
language,  yet  ever  eloquent  with  these  new  purposes  and 
hopes.  Of  the  noblest  of  such  teachers  and  prophets  none 
stands  forth  more  prominently  than  Ernst  Haeckel.  From 
his  concluding  words  at  that  Munich  contest  rings  out  the 
motto  which,  in  a  word,  expresses  the  impulse  of  his  own 
life,  and  of  the  creative  era  of  the  new  faith  of  Monism : 
Impavidi  progrediamur  !  "  Undaunted  we  press  ever  on ! " 
But  in  this  motto  we  can  not  escape  the  echo  of  a  verse  of 
Goethe's  magnificent  "  Symbol "  of  the  progress  of  man — 
progress  between  "the  great  silences"  of  the  stars  and  the 
grave — a  poem  which  Carlyle  has  called,  and  made  im- 
mortal to  us  as,  the  deepest,  grandest  word  of  our  time  : 

Die  Zukunft  decket  The  future  hides 

Schmerzen  und  Gliicke.  Sorrows  and  gladness. 

Schrittweis  dem  Blicke,  Stepwise  to  the  sight, 

Doch  ungeschrecket,  Yet  undaunted, 

Dringen  wir  vorwarts  !  We  press  ever  on  J 


50  Prof.  Ernst  Haeckel 


ABSTRACT  OF  THE  DISCUSSION. 

MR.  NELSON  J.  GATES  : 

The  intelligent  world  owes  a  debt  of  gratitude  to  Prof.  Haeckel.  It 
is  due  to  his  labors,  mainly,  that  the  doctrine  of  evolution  is  now  as  well 
established  as  Kepler's  laws  of  the  motions  of  the  planetary  bodies,  or 
Newton's  law  of  gravitation.  No  careful  student  of  modern  scientific 
thought  now  doubts  that  the  law  of  cause  and  effect  prevails  through- 
out all  phenomena,  whether  physical  or  mental.  Every  effect  is  the 
exact  product  of  antecedent  causes.  Thought  is  as  much  the  product 
of  the  condition's  under  which  it  arises  as  is  the  formation  of  a  crystal 
or  the  growth  of  a  tree.  There  is  no  room  for  supernatural  interfer- 
ence anywhere.  Though  the  natural  evolution  of  living  forms  out  of 
non-living  matter  has  not  been  demonstrated  as  a  fact  of  present  oc- 
currence, there  is  no  doubt  in  the  mind  of  consistent  evolutionists 
that  the  most  primitive  organisms  were  originally  produced  by  spon- 
taneous generation.  Prof.  Haeckel's  investigations  in  embryology 
constitute  a  most  important  confirmation  of  the  Darwinian  theory, 
and  entitle  him  to  be  placed  in  the  front  rank  -of  experimental 
scientists. 

PROF.  P.  H.  VAN  DER  WEYDE  : 

Dr.  Vander  Weyde  exhibited  a  series  of  drawings  enlarged  from 
plates  contained  in  the  works  of  Prof.  Haeckel,  illustrative  of  human 
evolution.  The  lowest  form  of  mankind  was  shown  to  be  scarcely  as 
intelligent  in  appearance  as  the  higher  apes,  and  the  brain  capacity  of 
the  lowest  races  was  but  little  superior  to  that  of  the  highest  non- 
human  mammals.  He  also  explained,  by  the  aid  of  a  map,  Prof. 
Haeckel's  theory  as  to  the  geographical  distribution  of  the  human 
race.  Dr.  Van  der  Weyde  saw  no  difficulty  in  conceiving  that  all 
living  things,  including  man,  were  developed  from  eternally  existing 
matter — only  the  matter  itself  must  have  been  living  matter,  not  dead 
and  inert,  as  was  formerly  believed. 

DR.  ROBERT  G.  ECCLES  : 

Mr.  Wakeman  wholly  misunderstands  Mr.  Spencer's  position  as  to 
the  nature  of  mind  or  consciousness.  Mr.  Spencer  does  not  regard 
consciousness  as  an  entity,  but  as  a  phenomenal  process.  Mr.  Wake- 


Prof.  Ernst  HaecM.  51 

man's  position  respecting  consciousness  as  a  temporary  phase  of  being, 
causally  correlated  with  brain  changes,  positively  implies  the  miracle 
of  creation  and  opposes  the  doctrine  of  natural  evolution.  The  physi- 
cal facts  of  extension,  motion,  and  time  involved  in  the  molecular  or 
functional  activities  of  the  brain  can  by  no  possible  conjuring  be  con- 
ceived of  in  terms  of  consciousness.  Between  the  two  series  of  pro- 
cesses there  is  an  impassable  gulf  in  thought.  No  thinkable  arrange- 
ments of  the  former  can  enable  us  to  conceive  the  latter  as  being 
caused  thereby.  An  unthinkable  proposition  is  a  false  proposition,  if 
•we  can  place  any  reliance  on  reason.  He  wants  us  to  believe  that 
when  matter  and  motion  are  properly  arranged  together  in  the  brain, 
and  played  upon  by  the  changes  of  the  external  world,  by  some 
"  presto,  change  "  process,  we  get  mind  ;  and  yet  he  holds  that  neither 
matter  nor  motion  contains  any  distinctly  psychic  elements  when  apart 
or  combined  in  any  other  manner  than  in  the  brain.  His  statement  is 
exactly  equivalent  to  saying  that  by  certain  arrangements  of  the  parti- 
cles of  two  mountains  they  could  be  set  side  by  side  without  a  valley 
between.  We  know  that  Nature  changes  her  form  incessantly,  but  we 
have  no  evidence  that  she  ever  creates  anything  new.  The  substance, 
time,  space,  motion,  and  consciousness  of  things  may  assume  endless 
guises,  but  we  have  no  reason  for  supposing  an  increase  or  diminution 
in  quantity  of  either.  Modes  of  consciousness,  like  modes  of  motion, 
may  change,  but  both,  so  far  as  we  know,  persist  everlastingly  in  some 
form;  at  least,  such  is  the  logical  conclusion  of  the  evolutionist. 
When  Mr.  Wakeman  tells  us  that  there  is  no  room  anywhere  in  the 
universe  for  a  god  or  a  spook,  he  arrogantly  assumes  knowledge 
which  man  neither  does  nor  ever  can  possess.  What  can  a  finite 
creature  with  finite  knowledge  ever  know  about  the  possibilities  of  the 
infinite  I  Has  he  grasped  every  fact  of  nature  to  enable  him  to  tell 
whether  his  stupendous  assumption  does  or  does  not  agree  with  them  I 
A  more  modest  man  might  make  his  statement  as  a  mere  unverified 
belief,  for  which  he  alone  is  responsible,  but  to  put  it  forward  as 
established  truth  is  preposterous.  We  know  nothing  of  the  universe 
as  it  exists  apart  from  our  own  consciousness,  which  is  finite  and  lim- 
ited in  its  modes  of  activity.  Our  knowledge  is  necessarily  limited  to 
the  narrow  range  of  our  experience.  What  we  know,  therefore,  is  in 
ourselves.  We  can  know  the  external  universe  only  symbolically. 
As  well  might  the  eyeless  worm  try  to  picture  the  world  as  we  see  it, 
as  we  to  picture  the  actual  totality  of  conditions  of  the  Universal  Being 
in  which  we  are  incessantly  enveloped. 


52  Prof.  Ernst  Haeckel 

DR.  LEWIS  G.  JANES  : 

Evolution  has  a  very  broad  back.  It  can  carry  all  sorts  of  theories 
of  the  universe,  and  not  break  down  under  the  load.  Our  biographical 
lectures  have  at  least  been  successful  in  demonstrating  that  the  doc- 
trine of  evolution  can  be  held  in  connection  with  a  great  variety  of 
theological  and  anti-theological  speculations.  Yet,  when  any  complete 
philosophical  statement  of  the  doctrine  is  attempted,  we  find,  I  think, 
substantial  agreement  in  fundamental  principles.  Darwin,  as  has  been 
said,  did  not  assume  to  have  any  consistent,  well-ordered  explanation 
of  the  general  philosophy  of  evolution.  He  appeared  to  incline  at  one 
time  to  theistic,  at  another  to  materialistic  views  of  the  world,  yet  he 
named  Herbert  Spencer  "  our  greatest  philosopher,"  and  did  not  ex- 
pressly dissent  from  his  main  doctrines.  Asa  Gray  was  a  pronounced 
theist,  who  did  not  regard  the  doctrine  of  evolution  as  inconsistent 
with  his  Presbyterian  profession  of  faith.  Wallace  is  a  spiritualist, 
and  Prof.  Haeckel  a  monist,  but  not  more  of  one,  as  I  understand 
it,  than  Darwin  or  Spencer.  The  doctrine  of  evolution  is  unquestion- 
ably indebted  to  Prof.  Haeckel  more  than  to  any  living  biological 
investigator  for  an  immense  and  orderly  array  of  facts  in  its  support. 
He  has  also  contributed  something  of  value  to  its  broader  field  of 
philosophical  thought.  Mr'.  Wakeman's  interpretation  of  Haeckel's 
monisfic  philosophy,  however,  to  my  mind,  is  not  entirely  correct  or 
adequate.  It  is  not,  as  I  understand  it  from  his  writings,  inconsistent 
with  the  recognition  of  the  psychological  principle  of  the  relativity  of 
our  knowledge,  on  which  rests  Herbert  Spencer's  doctrine  of  the  un- 
knowable. On  the  contrary,  it  expressly  recognizes  this  principle. 
Prof.  Haeckel  clearly  states  the  doctrine  of  relativity  in  numerous 
passages  in  his  writings.  In  his  History  of  Creation  he  says :  "  We 
nowhere  arrive  at  a  knowledge  of  first  causes.  ...  In  explaining  the 
most  simple  physical  or  chemical  phenomena,  as  the  falling  of  a  stone, 
or  the  formation  of  chemical  combinations,  we  arrive  ...  at  other 
remoter  phenomena  which  are  in  themselves  mysterious.  This  arises 
from  the  limitation  or  relativity  of  our  powers  of  understanding.  We 
must  not  forget  that  human  knowledge  is  absolutely  limited,  and  pos- 
sesses only  a  relative  extension.  It  is,  in  its  essence,  limited  by  the 
very  nature  of  our  senses  and  of  our  brains."  He  also  evidently  be- 
lieves that  life  is  no  mere  by-play  of  nature,  as  Mr.  Wakeman  has 
represented  it  to  be,  but  a  constant  and  eternal  ingredient  in  the  uni- 
verse. He  speaks  of  "  the  animating  of  all  matter,  the  inseparability 
of  mental  power  and  corporeal  substance."  He  quotes  approvingly 
Goethe's  assertion  that  "  matter  can  never  exist  and  be  active  without 
mind,  nor  can  mind  without  matter."  With  Mr.  Spencer  he  recognizes 


Prof.  Ernst  Haeckel.  53 

mind  and  matter  as  the  eternally  related  but  opposing  sides  of  one 
substantial  reality.  He  calls  his  philosophy  a  "  mechanical "  philosophy, 
it  is  true — using  this  term,  as  I  understand  him,  in  common  with  a 
school  of  European  thinkers,  to  indicate  the  universality  of  the  prin- 
ciple of  causation — of  what  we  term  "  law,"  as  opposed  to  chance, 
caprice,  or  miracle.  In  this  respect,  too,  he  is  in  entire  agreement  with 
Mr.  Spencer.  The  doctrine  of  the  unknowable  does  not  imply  any 
interference  with  the  causal  correlation  of  phenomena.  It  does  not 
open  the  door,  as  Mr.  Wakeman  has  implied,  to  the  primitive  ghost  or 
"  spook "  idea.  Prof.  HaeckePs  views  are  not,  in  the  old-fashioned 
"metaphysical"  terminology,  materialistic,  any  more  than  are  Mr. 
Spencer's.  In  his  reply  to  Prof.  Virchow  he  says:  "All  human 
knowledge  as  such  is  subjective."  He  declares  gravitation  a  mere 
hypothesis,  and  says :  "  All  the  conceptions  which  we  possess  of  the 
chemical  structure  and  affinities  of  matter  are  subjective  hypotheses, 
mere  conceptions  as  to  the  positions  and  changes  of  position  of  the 
various  atoms,  whose  very  existence  is  incapable  of  proof."  It  would 
be  easier  to  construct  a  system  of  idealism  on  such  foundation  prin- 
ciples than  a  materialistic  system.  Both  Herbert  Spencer  and  John 
Fiske,  the  ablest  exponents  of  the  philosophy  of  evolution  in  England 
and  America,  have  expressly  disclaimed  the  alleged  materialistic  im- 
plications of  this  philosophy.  Neither  mind  nor  matter,  according  to 
Mr.  Spencer,  is  a  substance  or  "  thing  in  itself  " ;  both  are  phenomenal, 
symbolically  representative  of  one  unknowable  reality.  The  3penceri- 
an  philosophy  is  a  monistic  system,  based  upon  this  unknowable  reality. 
The  proof  that  this  reality  is  unknowable,  in  its  essential  nature,  is  not 
metaphysical,  but  purely  scientific,  depending  as  it  does  upon  the  sci- 
entific demonstration  of  the  nature  and  limitations  of  our  modes  of 
sense-perception.  The  pictures  which  we  form  of  the  external  world 
are  simply  synthetized  symbols  of  the  psycho-physiological  sensations 
which  we  derive  from  contact  with  it.  As  the  symbols  are  constant, 
however,  we  recognize  the  order  of  nature  as  steadfast,  we  accept  it  as 
a  real,  objective  fact,  which  corresponds  with  our  symbolical  conceptions. 
The  world,  therefore,  is  not  an  illusion ;  our  knowledge  is  a  real,  though 
representative  and  symbolical,  knowledge  of  real  objective  relations. 

MR.  WAKEMAN,  IN  REPLY  : 

My  thanks  are  due  to  Mr.  Gates  for  his  very  concise,  clear,  and  able 
statement  of  the  general  conclusion  set  forth  in  my  lecture,  and  which, 
I  believe,  w.ill  in  time  become  the  conviction  of  all  who  carefully  think 
and  investigate. 

I  am  also  under  deep  obligations  to  Prof.  Vander  Weyde  for  his  kind 
and  sustaining  words,  as  often  I  have  been  during  many  years  of  pleas- 


54  Prof.  Ernst  HaccM. 

ant  and  helpful  intercourse  with  him  in  matters  of  science  and  reform. 
We  all  recognize  in  him  a  worthy  representative — may  we  not  almost 
say,  in  view  of  his  advanced  years,  survivor  ? — successor,  certainly,  of 
Huygens  and  the  great  physicists  and  discoverers,  who  have  made  his 
native  Holland  glorious  as  the  nursery  and  home  of  science  and  liberty. 
His  remarks  this  evening  have  not  only  been  in  the  line  of  my  lecture, 
but  his  charts  and  drawings  have  made  evolution  visible  to  the  eye  and 
mind  at  once,  and  so  have  done  what  no  lecture  otherwise  could. 

But  what  shall  I  say  of  my  two  opposing  critics,  Dr.  Eccles  and  Dr. 
Janes  ?  Fortunately,  by  taking  the  last  first,  they  help  to  explain  the 
lecture,  and  to  extinguish  each  other. 

Dr.  Janes,  for  instance,  well  confirms  all  I  said  about  the  great  va- 
riety of  limited  and  incomplete  evolutionists ;  and  he  joins  with  me  in 
placing  Prof.  Haeckel  in  the  front  rank  as  a  naturalist  and  philosopher. 
That  the  lecture  was  "  inadequate  "  may  be  true,  for  the  whole  of  a 
new  system  of  philosophy  and  religion  could  hardly  be  adequately  pre- 
sented in  one  lecture,  and  I  claim  to  deserve  well  of  you  that  I  did  not 
further  try  to  insert  in  it  the  "  whole  world  and  the  rest  of  mankind.'' 

Whether  what  I  did  insert  is  "correct"  or  not  must  not  be  left  to 
critics  prepossessed  by  opposite  views,  but  to  an  impartial  view  of  the 
whole  field.  I  was  trying  to  see  how  the  science,  philosophy,  and  re- 
ligion of  positive  monism,  or  monistic  positivism — either  will  do — could 
be  held  in  its  extreme  and  most  thorough  statement,  and  without  re- 
gard to  captious  and  verbal  objections  which  could  be  picked  out  of 
Haeckel  or  any  master.  I  am  familiar  with  all  these  clauses  the  doctor 
has  cited,  and  think  they  amount  to  nothing  but  the  using  of  Haeckel's 
words  in  an  anti-monistic  sense.  For  instance,  he  invokes  "  The  Rela- 
tivity of  Knowledge."  Yes,  certainly ;  but  relative  to  what  ?  Why, 
as  the  rest  of  the  sentence  shows,  "to  our  senses  and  brains,"  the 
human  mind ;  as  all  monists  say :  but  not  at  all  to  any  "  unknowable 
entity."  Then  the  doctor  mistakenly  makes  me  say  that  life  or  con- 
sciousness is  a  "  by-play  of  nature."  No  expression  could  be  more 
anti-monistic.  Nature,  as  Goethe  and  Haeckel  teach,  has  no  by-plays 
nor  inside  nor  out.  Life,  mind,  and  the  Ego  are  the  outflowering  cor- 
relate and  glory  of  all  nature,  and  no  by-play  at  all !  But  for  that 
very  reason  they  can  not  be  a  constant,  universal,  eternal  "  ingredient " 
in  nature— any  more  than  the  flower  and  fragrance  of  the  plant  are 
ingredients  in  its  roots,  or  the  earth  out  of  which  it  grows.  Of  course, 
we  also  say:  "  Mental  power  and  corporeal  substance  are  inseparable." 
But  this  substance  is  no  unknowable  entity  or  spook,  but  the  prior 
correlations  from  which  mental  action  is  the  caused  and  causal  se- 
quence. 

The  doctor  then  makes  a  fog  by  confounding  what  Goethe,  Haeckel, 


Prof.  Ernst  Haeckel  55 

and  other  poets  and  philosophers  have  said  about  matter  being  "  alive." 
This  he  does  by  overlooking  the  distinction  between  the  spontaneous 
motion,  or  "  life,"  of  'inorganic  matter,  and  the  vital  and  psychic  life 
found  only  in  organized  matter— i.  e.,  protoplasm.  Goethe,  Haeckel, 
Carus,  and  the  rest  of  them  are  constantly  comparing  these  very  dis- 
parate processes ;  but  no  one  now,  with  a  bit  of  sense  left,  ever  really 
confounds  them.  They  are  compared  for  poetic  piirposes,  as  Goethe 
does  artistically  and  avowedly,  or  for  pseudo-religious  purposes,  as 
some  modern  .theological  "  apologists  "  do.  Dr.  Carus  (Fundamental 
Problems,  pp.  Ill,  114, 128, 130,  etc.)  thus  states  the  proper  distinction, 
made  by  common  sense  every  time :  "  We  must  well  distinguish  this 
kind  of  life  in  a  broader  sense  (which  is  an  inherent  quality  of  matter) 
from  the  vegetable  and  animal  organisms.  The  former  is  elementary 
and  eternal ;  the  latter  is  complex  and  unstable,  because  produced  by 
a  combination  of  the  former.  Spontaneity  is  an  inherent  quality  in 
all  matter,  and  if  spontaneously  moving  bodies  have  to  be  called 
'alive,'  we  must  acknowledge  that  nature  throughout  is  alive.  .  .  . 
The  word  life,  however,  as  commonly  understood,  is  applied  to  or- 
ganized life  only.  .  .  .  The  essential  difference  is  the  absence  of  or- 
ganic growth  and  psychic  life  in  one,  and  its  presence  in  the  other.'' 
Then  he  speaks  of  "  all  organized  and  psychic  life  as  evolved  from 
the  general  life  of  the  universe,"  and  he  adds  that  a  "  psychic  life,  con- 
sidered as  foreign  to  our  world,"  is  the  "  corner-stone  of  dualism." 

This  is  the  monistic  view,  and  Dr.  Carus  expressly  states  in  The 
Open  Court  of  March  13,  1890,  after  a  personal  interview  with  Prof. 
Haeekel  at  Jena,  that  this  professor  agrees  with  this  version  of  monism, 
and  not  with  agnosticism  at  all.* 

Now,  all  this  is  stated  by  monists  to  refute  and  rule  out  "  the  un- 
knowable, substantial,  inscrutable  reality "  which  Dr.  Janes  gives  us 
from  Mr.  Spencer,  and  which  on  one  side,  Spencer  and  he  say,  gives  us 
matter,  and,  on  the  other  side,  mind.  But  as  correlation  does  the 
whole  business,  whence  comes  this  fifth  wheel,  "  inscrutable,"  and  what 
for  t  And  being  inscrutable,  how  do  we  know  that  it  has  sides  and 
gives  us  matter  or  mind  or  anything  else  t  It  can  not  be  the  correlate 

*  Dr.  Paul  Carus,  in  The  Open  Court  of  March  13,  1890.  says :  "Prof.  Ernst 
Haeckel  is  again  and  again  erroneously  quoted  as  an  authority  in  support  of  ag- 
nosticism. When  I  visited  him  in  Jena  last  summer  he  very  warmly  expressed 
his  sympathy  with  the  attitude  of  The  Open  Court  for  taking  such  a  decided  and 
unmistakable  stand  against  the  ignorabimus  (we  can  not  know)  of  agnosticism. 
He  called  my  attention  in  this  connection  to  his  own  controversies  with  Virchow 
and  Du  Bois-Reymond  (especially  Freie  Wissenschaft  und  Freie  Lehre)." 

The  first  number  of  The  Open  Court,  page  17,  contains  the  following  quotation 
from  Haeckel  without  reference  : 

"  I  believe  that  my  monistic  convictions  agree  in  all  essential  points  with  that 
natural  philosophy  which  in  England  is  represented  as  agnosticism.  ..." 

Prof.  Haeckel  declared  that  he  did  not  remember  ever  having  written  a  sen- 
tence to  that  purport,  and  I  come  to  the  conclusion  that  there  is  something  wrong 
about  the  quotation. 


56  Prof.  Ernst  Haeckel. 

of  anything ;  for  then  it  would  be,  as  such,  knowable.  Can  we  not 
see  that  "unknowability  "  is  not  a  thing,  but  an  adjective  word,  simply 
descriptive  of  our  ignorance,  and  exists  nowhere  but  in  our  minds ; 
when,  therefore,  it  is  applied  to  the  objective  world  it  is  a  misty  an- 
thropomorphism ;  and  as  the  basis  of  a  philosophy  an  intellectual  fog 
plainly  derived  from  theology  ? 

Therefore  the  positivists — as,  for  instance,  Mr.  Frederic  Harrison 
in  the  Religious  Discussions  with  Mr.  Spencer— cleared  Comte  from 
this  fog,  and  all  the  monists  and  clear  objective  scientists  have  done 
the  same.  That  was  "  the  parting  of  the  ways  "  between  them  and  the 
Spencerians,  and  there  is  no  danger  of  those  ways  ever  uniting  again, 
for  they  all  see  that  the  Spencerian  philosophy  as  "  a  monistic  sys- 
tem, based  upon  this  unknowable  reality,"  as  Dr.  Janes  repeats  it,  is  a 
hopeless  duality.  The  limitations  of  our  faculties  are  modestly  ac- 
knowledged, but  they  in  no  wise  prove  that  the  law  of  correlation  has 
an  exception  or  a  limit,  much  less  that  it  ends  in  an  entical  "  Un- 
knowable," or  leaves  room  for  that,  or  for  any  one  of  the  countless 
varieties  of  spooks  which  have  led  up  to  that  pseudo-idea.  But  those 
limitations  do  prove  that  all  our  knowledge  is  "relative"  to  our- 
selves, and  "  subjective  and  hypothetical,"  as  the  doctor  states,  and 
that  "  atoms  "  are  not  only  "  hypothetical,"  but  extremely  dubious,  as 
he  quotes  from  Prof.  Haeckel,  doubtless  for  the  enlightenment  of  our 
atomic  friend,  Dr.  Eccles,  who  often  in  these  lectures  trots  out  those 
submicroscopic  spooks,  as  though  they  were  realities. 

These  remarks  clear  up  Dr.  Janes's  quotations,  and  do  much  also  to 
relieve  the  terror  which  the  thunder  of  Dr.  Eccles's  adjectives,  so  for- 
midable, but  unnecessary,  might  otherwise  inspire.  Certainly,  I  have 
not  (as  he  says)  misunderstood  Mr.  Spencer.  I  have  used  the  very 
words  quoted  and  used  by  Dr.  Janes,  and  which  are  taken  from  the 
close  of  Mr.  Spencer's  First  Principles,  his  Psychology  (pp.  206,  504, 
627,  and  469,  475,  487,  third  English  edition),  and  his  own  articles 
printed  in  his  Discussion  with  Mr.  Harrison.  Certainly  Spencer  says 
mind  is  a  "  phenomenal  process,"  is  "  co-related  with  nerve  changes," 
but  not  causally  correlated  with  them  and  the  world,  but  "  flows,"  as 
do  "  all  things,"  from  the  "  infinite  eternal  unknowable  energy."  Not 
a  friend  or  opponent  of  Mr.  Spencer  fails  to  understand  this  posi- 
tion. As  a  friend,  Mr.  Fiske  gives  us  from  it  The  Unseen  World 
and  The  Idea  of  God,  and  Mr.  Harrison,  as  an  opponent,  makes  this 
whole  unknowable  energy,  power,  substance,  and  entity  religiously 
absurd ;  but  neither  misunderstand  him  nor  it ;  nor  do  I,  or  you,  or 
Dr.  Eccles.  We  all  take  what  Mr.  Spencer  says  in  this  regard  for 
what  we  think  it  is  worth.  There  is  no  misunderstanding,  but  a  dif- 
ference as  to  facts,  judgment,  and  conclusions.  Whether  the  mind  is 


Prof.  Ernst  HaecM.  57 

merely  attendantly  co-related,  or  causally  correlated,  or  how  related 
to  or  with  this  Unknowable,  must,  according  to  Mr.  Spencer,  be  forever 
unknown,  because  it  by  this  explanation  becomes  an  unknowable  "  por- 
tion "  of  this  unknowable.  Therefrom  Mr.  Spencer  informs  us  that 
it  "  flows,"  but  Mr.  Fiske  says  it  "  wells  up."  We  give  it  up !  Science, 
philosophy,  religion,  have  no  refuge  before  this  entical  explanation 
except  the  old  awe,  terror,  or  horror  of  the  old  superstition  and  devil 
worship.  The  theologs,  mediums,  and  "  medicine  men  "  very  naturally 
resume  their  ghost  dance  before  this  unknowable  spook  back  of  their 
knowable  world,  which  is  always  their  god.  How  different  are  all 
such  feelings  from  the  healthy,  rational,  sustaining,  scientific,  cosmic- 
emotion  excited  by  Goethe  and  the  monistic  theory  of  The  All,  the 
world,  as  a  possibly  knowable,  an  ever-correlated  and  an  ever-causal 
cosmos  of  law  and  order  !  Eead,  for  instance,  Goethe's  poem  Inherit- 
ance, to  which  I  have  referred. 

The  doctor  next  tries  to  misappropriate  the  law  of  correlation  so  as 
to  exclude  mind,  because  we  can  not  "  think  "  how  its  previous  condi- 
tions and  correlates  actually  make  it,  and  so  he  thinks  that  as  an  in- 
dependent entity  it  "  may  persist  everlastingly  in  some  form."  Well ! 
what  correlations  are  thinkable  ?  We  have  answered,  None !  I  have 
pointed  out,  for  instance,  how  the  will  can  not  think  how  it  comes,  and 
so  it  is  seemingly  free.  We  learn  by  science  to  gradually  think  out 
and  know  correlations,  like  the  rainbow,  music,  or  our  thoughts,  until 
we  can  oversee,  but  probably  never  can  exactly  grasp,  each  detail  of  the 
wonderful  complexity.  To  grasp  the  law  is  the  triumph  of  science ! 
But  how  can  a  scientist,  a  correlationist,  like  Dr.  Eccles,  talk  of  mind 
as  not  a  correlate  of  the  correlated  world,  and  yet  as  '•  persisting  ever- 
lastingly," and  so  consequently  flitting  about  forever  as  persisting  and 
yet  in  "  Erehwon  "  (Nowhere),  and  not  see  the  absurdity  of  the  situa- 
tion f  In  a  universe  of  solid  correlation,  where  is  the  "  needless  point " 
left  for  his  uncorrelated  spook? 

If,  as  he  says,  I  am  "  arrogant "  and  "  preposterous  "  because  I  can 
not  appreciate  this  position  except  as  an  absurdity,  remember  that  I 
am  not  alone.  The  whole  school  of  scientific  psychologists  from  Bain 
and  Mill  and  Maudsley  down  to  the  last  work  of  Prof.  James,*  of  Har- 

*  In  justice  to  Prof.  James,  as  he  has  been  twice  quoted  by  Mr.  Wakeman  in 
support  of  his  views,  he  should  be  briefly  heard  in  explanation  of  his  own  posi- 
tion. In  a  note  to  Dr.  Janes  he  says  :  "  Empirically,  everything  points  to  brain- 
activities  as  being  conditions  of  our  thoughts.  There  is  thus  a  '  correlation '  in 
the  sense  of  invariable  antecedence  or  concomitance,  which  must  be  written 
down  as  a  scientific  law.  Such  a  law  of  concomitance  says  nothing  of  deeper 
relations  of  causation,  identity,  etc. ;  nor,  in  scientific  exactness,  can  we  say  any- 
thing rational  about  the  relation  of  brain  to  thought.  If  we  remain  positivist  ic. 
we  will  write  down  the  correlation  and  pretend  to  no  further  knowledge.  We 
can't  help  postulating,  however,  that  there  is  further  matter  to  be  known.  .  .  . 
Everything  points  to  some  sort  of  idealism.  But  the  question  of  immortality 
doesn't  seem  to  be  soluble  either  by  science  or  philosophy ;  it  is  a  teleological 


58  Prof.  Ernst  HaecM. 

vard  University,  to  say  nothing  of  the  distinguished  positivists,  sci- 
entists, and  monists  I  have  already  named — all  deserve  the  same  "pre- 
posterous" epithets.  But  why  are  such  epithets  used?  Evidently 
they  are  inspired  in  our  otherwise  gracious  friend  by  his  unfortunate 
belief  in  "  the  unknowable  "—the  very  same  unscientific  faith  which 
placed  more  than  burning  words  around  Bruno  and  Servetus.  Does 
not  this  lapse  and  the  tendency  of  that  faith  also  show  that  Mr.  Harri- 
son was  right  in  his  contention  that  the  friends  of  science  and  human- 
ity have  no  more  pressing  duty  than  the  exorcism  of  this  last  of  the 
unknowable  spooks  from  a  haunted  world  1 
hope,  which,  if  the  world  have  a  Ideological  constitution,  may  have  propl;efc 


THE  SCIENTIFIC  METHOD 


FRANCIS  ELLINGWOOD  ABBOT,  PH.  D. 

AUTHOR  OF  SCIENTIFIC  THEISM,   THE  WAY  OUT  OF  AGNOSTICISM,   ETC. 


COLLATERAL  READINGS  SUGGESTED: 

Spencer's  First  Principles  and  Essay  on  the  Classification  of  the 
Sciences,  in  Recent  Discussions ;  Abbot's  Scientific  Theism,  and  The 
Way  out  of  Agnosticism  ;  Fiske's  Cosmic  Philosophy ;  Jevons's  The 
Principles  of  Science ;  Clifford's  The  Teachings  of  Science ;  Picton's 
The  Mystery  of  Matter :  Hinton's  Life  in  Nature ;  Mill's  System  of 
Logic ;  Bacon's  Novum  Organum. 


THE  SCIENTIFIC  METHOD. 

BY  FRANCIS  ELLIJJGWOOD  ABBOT,  PH.  D. 

Is  there  any  such  thing  as  ignorance  ? 

Is  there  any  such  thing  as  knowledge  ? 

Is  there  any  real  difference  between  the  two  ? 

Is  there  any  possibility  of  learning — that  is,  of  passing 
gradually  from  ignorance  to  knowledge  ? 

Surely  these  are  strange  questions  to  put,  especially  to  an 
intelligent  audience;  but  they  go  deep  and  mean  a  great 
deal.  Perhaps  it  is  not  so  easy  to  answer  them  as  it  appears 
to  be,  or  at  least  to  give  adequate,  conclusive,  and  satisfac- 
tory reasons  for  the  answers.  In  order  to  bring  out  the 
significance  of  the  questions,  allow  me  to  take  a  concrete 
instance. 

Several  years  ago  a  negro  preacher  of  Eichmond,  Rev. 
Mr.  Jasper,  created  amusement  throughout  the  country  by 
stoutly  maintaining  that  "  the  sun  do  move  " — that  the  sun 
revolves  around  the  earth,  not  the  earth  around  the  sun. 
What  created  the  amusement  was  Mr.  Jasper's  unconscious 
and  courageous  ignorance.  Everybody  laughed  to  see  a 
public  man  defend  astronomical  notions  of  his  own  which 
every  school-boy  knew  to  be  untrue,  and  laughed  all  the 
harder  the  more  vigorously  he  defended  them,  for  knowl- 
edge, unlike  religion,  has  never  yet  persecuted  any  one ;  it 
subjects  ignorance  to  no  worse  persecution  than  the  ordeal 
of  laughter. 

Now,  Mr.  Jasper  was  a  preacher,  not  a  philosopher.  If 
he  had  been  a  modern  idealist  or  individualist  we  can  easily 
imagine  him  turning  upon  his  hilarious  opponents  and  ad- 
dressing to  them  arguments  to  which  merriment  would  be 
no  reply. 

"  You  call  me  ignorant,"  he  might  have  said, "  but  you  do 
not  know  yourselves  what  ignorance  is.  Each  of  you  fan- 
cies himself  to  be  the  standard  of  knowledge,  and  dubs 
me  ignorant  simply  because  I  differ  from  himself.  Now, 
knowledge  is  nothing  in  the  world  but  thought,  and  your 
knowledge  is  nothing  but  your  individual  thought.  There 
is  nothing  whatever  above  individual  thought ;  there  is  no 


62  The  Scientific  Method. 

criterion  of  knowledge  above  it  or  beyond  it,  no  authority 
to  appeal  to,  no  tribunal  to  decide  betwixt  you  and  me. 
The  right  of  private  judgment  is  absolute,  and  there  exists 
no  objective  standard  of  truth  to  limit  or  control  it.  If 
there  does  exist  any  such  standard,  tell  me,  if  you  can,  what 
it  is.  But  you  can  not.  When  two  individuals  differ,  it  is 
simply  absurd  for  either  to  claim  for  his  own  thought  any 
higher  authority  than  itself.  It  is  simply  absurd  for  any 
one  to  say  '  I  know '  in  any  higher  sense  than  '  I  think,'  or 
to  assert  that  his  neighbor  is  ignorant  merely  because  they 
two  think  differently.  Now,  I  think  that  the  sun  revolves 
around  the  earth ;  you  think  that  the  earth  revolves  around 
the  sun.  Very  well,  we  think  differently  ;  that  is  all.  Who 
has  any  right  to  decide  between  us  ?  Nobody.  You  have 
no  more  right  tc  call  me  ignorant  because  I  think  different- 
ly from  you  than  I  have  to  call  you  ignorant  because  you 
think  differently  from  me.  There  is  and  can  be  no  igno- 
rance at  all  unless  there  is  a  standard  of  knowledge  over  and 
above  all  individual  thought.  Yet  what  standard  of  knowl- 
edge do  you  confess  to  be  superior  to  your  own  thought? 
None  whatevei !  Then  you  can  not  prove  me  to  be  igno- 
rant; you  can  only  assert  it  without  a  shadow  of  proof. 
The  plain  truth  is  that,  except  as  mere  individual  opinion, 
mere  assertion  by  the  individual  on  the  sole  warrant  of  his 
own  individual  thought,  there  is  no  such  thing  as  either 
ignorance  or  knowledge.  So  long  as  you  have  no  standard 
of  knowledge  higher  than  yourselves,  you  have  no  right  to 
call  me  ignorant,  I  deny  the  jurisdiction  of  the  court 
which  has  rashly  undertaken  to  try  me.  I,  too,  am  an  in- 
dividual, and  all  individuals  are  equal  before  the  laws  of 
thought." 

If  Mr.  Jasper  had  defended  himself  at  the  time  in  this 
fashion,  he  might  not  have  convinced  his  critics,  but  he 
would  certainly  have  puzzled  them  and  abated  their  compla- 
cent merriment.  How  many  of  them  could  have  refuted 
his  idealistic  individualism  ?  Suppose  that  they  had  tried 
to  reply  to  him  as  follows : 

"You  declare  that  all  individuals  are  equal  before  the 
laws  of  thought.  Granted.  But  no  individual  is  equal  to 
all  individuals.  You  are  in  a  minority  of  one  against  the 
civilized  world.  Therefore  we  laugh  at  you  as  ignorant  just 
because  you  fancy  yourself  wiser  than  all  mankind." 

Would  this  reply  have  silenced  our  imaginary  philosoph- 
icalJasper?  Not  at  all. 


The  Scientific  Method.  63 

"  You  now  assert,"  he  would  coolly  have  retorted,  "  that 
mankind,  a  mere  multitude  of  individuals,  are  wiser  than 
any  one  individual.  But  no  crowd  is  so  tall  as  its  tallest 
man ;  no  army  on  the  march  can  keep  up  with  its  stoutest 
pedestrian;  no  multitude  of  individuals  is  so  wise  as  the 
wisest  man  in  it.  But,  waiving  this  point  and  conceding 
your  argument  to  be  sound,  you  now  refute  yourselves  and 
prove  me  to  be  in  the  right,  for  your  own  boasted  Coper- 
nicus, when  he  first  broached  his  nonsensical  notion  that 
the  earth  revolves  around  the  sun,  was  himself  in  a  minor- 
ity of  one  against  the  civilized  world.  By  your  own  argu- 
ment, then,  Copernicus  was  ignorant ;  and  the  civilized 
world  of  his  time,  whose  verdict  of  condemnation  I  do  but 
echo,  was  wiser  than  he,  and  alone  understood  the  matter. 
It  is  time  for  you  to  laugh  at  yourselves,  not  me,  as  igno- 
rant. A  mere  majority  of  individual  votes  may  elect  a 
member  of  Congress,  but  never  yet  established  a  truth." 

Biting  as  this  retort  appears,  the  critics  of  Mr.  Jasper, 
who  were  undoubtedly  in  the  right,  would  not  quite  yet 
have  surrendered  their  case.  We  may  conceive  them  as 
making  some  such  rejoinder  as  this : 

"  Very  well,  then ;  we  give  up  our  argument  on  that 
point.  We  appeal  now,  not  to  the  verdict  of  a  mere  majority 
of  individuals,  but  to  the  verdict  of  the  facts  of  the  uni- 
verse. These  facts  prove  that  the  sun  does  not  revolve 
about  the  earth,  but  the  earth  about  the  sun.  When  you 
maintain  the  contrary,  you  fly  in  the  face  of  the  facts  them- 
selves ;  and  the  facts  themselves  prove  you  to  be  ignorant. 
In  those  facts  the  universe  speaks  for  itself,  and  you  are  in  a 
minority  of  one  against  it.  Therefore  we  now  laugh  at  you 
because  you  fancy  yourself  to  be  wiser  than  the  whole  uni- 
verse." 

Would  our  idealist  Jasper  be  silenced  by  this  argument  ? 
Not  in  the  least.  His  counter-argument  would  be  ready 
thus  : 

"  How  do  you  know  these  '  facts  of  the  universe  '  of  which 
you  talk  so  glibly  ?  It  is  a  very  pretty  figure  of  speech  to 
say  that  the  universe  speaks  for  itself ;  but  the  figure  is  just 
as  empty  as  any  other  '  iridescent  dream.'  I  know  nothing 
about  the  facts  of  the  universe  except  what  I  myself  ob- 
serve ;  you  know  nothing  of  them  except  what  you  observe ; 
no  individual  either  does  or  can  know  anything  about 
them  except  what  he  himself  observes ;  and  one  individual's 
observation  is  just  as  good  as  any  other's.  Now,  my  own  ob- 


64  The  Scientific  Method. 

servation  of  the  universe  convinces  me  that  the  sun  revolves 
about  the  earth ;  I  see  it  rise  in  the  east,  traverse  the  sky, 
and  set  in  the  west.  The  inference  of  my  own  thought 
from  my  own  observation  is  that  'the  sun  do  move.' 
Against  this  thought  of  mine  you  have  nothing  whatever 
to  oppose  except  your  own  thought ;  but  one  individual's 
thought  is  just  as  much  knowledge  as  another's.  You  may 
multiply  your  mere  thought  by  a  thousand  million,  but  that 
does  not  make  it  either  ignorance  or  knowledge.  Individu- 
als differ  just  as  much  in  their  observations  as  in  their  in- 
ferences ;  and  there  is  no  judge,  no  criterion  of  knowledge, 
to  appeal  to  in  either  case.  Hence  your  '  facts  of  the  uni- 
verse '  exist  only  as  my  own  observations  and  inferences — 
in  a  word,  as  my  own  thoughts  ;  and  it  is  inane  for  you  to 
appeal  from  my  thoughts  to  my  thoughts,  as  if  you  could 
array  me  against  myself. 

"  But  this  is  not  all ;  I  go  still  further.  What  do  you 
mean  by  your  '  universe  '  anyhow  ?  You  mean  a  real  ex- 
ternal world,  wholly  outside  of  your  own  consciousness,  and 
wholly  independent  of  it.  It  is  absurd  to  postulate  any 
such  world  as  that.  If  there  is  any  truth  whatever  in  the 
doctrine  of  the  relativity  of  knowledge  (which  you  will  not 
venture  to  call  in  question),  you  can  not  possibly  know 
anything  whatever  of  an  external  world.  You  can  only 
know  certain  changes  or  affections  of  your  own  conscious- 
ness, caused  you  can  not  tell  how.  The  individual  mind 
can  know  nothing  but  its  own  changing  states  of  conscious- 
ness. It  can  never  know  anything  external  to  those  states. 
All  its  observations,  all  its  inferences,  all  its  knowledge,  all 
its  ignorance,  lie  solely  within  the  sphere  of  that  conscious- 
ness, and  have  no  meaning  at  all  Avith  reference  to  any  ex- 
ternal world  lying  beyond  that  sphere.  In  fact,  to  be  per- 
fectly candid,  I  am  bound  to  deny,  and  I  do  deny,  the  very 
possibility  of  any  external  world  beyond  my  own  individual 
mind ;  for,  if  I  admit  that  an  external  world  may  possibly 
exist  and  that  I  may  yet  be  ignorant  of  it,  I  thereby  con- 
tradict my  fundamental  principle  that  knowledge  and  igno- 
rance have  no  possible  reference  to  anything  outside  of  in- 
dividual consciousness.  If  knowledge  is  nothing  but  thought 
(and  who  disputes  that?),  then  ignorance,  the  absence  of 
knowledge,  can  only  be  thoughtlessness,  the  absence  of 
thought — can  only  be  unconsciousness,  the  absence  of  con- 
sciousness. If  knowledge  were  thinking  rightly,  then  igno- 
rance would  be  thinking  wronyly  ;  but  this  would  imply  a 


The  Scientific  Method.  65 

standard  of  truth  above  mere  thought  as  such,  and  this,  as 
we  all  agree,  is  absurd.  Hence  I  conclude  that  those  '  facts 
of  the  universe  '  to  which  you  so  confidently  appeal  do  not 
exist  at  all  except  as  my  own  thoughts ;  and,  since  I  know 
my  own  thoughts  better  than  you  do  or  can,  I  maintain 
that  the  '  facts  of  the  universe  '  are  all  on  my  side  and  sus- 
tain my  astronomical  theory.  Wherefore,  0  laughing  phi- 
losophers, I  am  not  ignorant ;  and  your  laughter,  like  the 
laughter  of  fools,  is  the  crackling  of  thorns  under  the  pot." 

And  would  this  pgean  of  triumph  end  the  controversy  ? 
Far  from  it.  The  critics  of  our  imaginary  Jasper,  however 
checked  in  their  mirth  by  that  last  unkindest  cut  of  all, 
could  hardly  fail  to  perceive  their  advantage  and  close  in 
upon  the  doughty  idealist  in  some  such  terms  as  these : 

"  You  now  explicitly  concede  that  you  know  no  real  world 
external  to  your  own  thought — in  fact,  that  no  such  world 
can  possibly  exist  without  upsetting  your  whole  philosophy. 
In  this  confession  you  are  either  more  candid  or  else  more 
clear-headed  than  some  other  philosophers  of  your  tribe. 
But  we  now  put  your  candor  or  your  clear-headedness, 
whichever  it  may  be,  to  a  still  severer  test.  Do  you  claim 
that  we,  too,  your  critics,  have  no  existence  except  as  your 
own  thoughts  or  conscious  states  ?  Are  we  real  beings  like 
yourself,  or  are  we  mere  phantoms  of  your  thought,  mere 
creatures  of  your  imagination,  mere  things  in  your  dream  ? 
Answer  this  question  frankly,  and  give  a  reason  for  your 
answer ;  for  we  are  only  a  part  of  your  external  world,  and, 
if  your  philosophy  has  any  coherence  with  itself,  it  must 
treat  the  question  of  our  reality  just  as  it  treats  that  of  the 
reality  of  a  material  world." 

To  this  crucial  question  let  us  imagine  that  Mr.  Jasper 
gives  a  bold,  logical,  and  unequivocal  reply.  If  so,  he  can 
reply  only  in  these  terms : 

"  Your  challenge,  I  admit,  is  a  perfectly  fair  one.  It  would 
be  unspeakably  absurd,  because  self -evidently  contradictory, 
to  say  that  the  whole  external  world,  as  I  know  it,  is  only 
my  own  conscious  thoughts  or  states,  and  yet  to  say  that 
you,  as  I  know  you,  are  real  beings  independent  of  my  con- 
scious states.  Other  idealists  are  all  guilty  of  this  absurdity 
and  self-contradiction,  but  I  scorn  to  be  guilty  of  it  myself. 
Therefore  I  tell  you  unflinchingly  that  you  are  in  no  sense 
real  beings  outside  of  my  thought.  You  are  only  phenomena 
of  my  individual  consciousness,  mere  creatures  of  my  own 
imagination  mere  things  in  my  own  dream.  If  I  argue 


66  The  Scientific  Method. 

with  yon,  and  thereby  seem  to  treat  you  as  real  beings,  it 
is  only  to  amuse  myself  with  a  conversation  which  is,  in  fact, 
only  a  soliloquy,  just  as  in  dreams  I  seem  to  talk  with  per- 
sons who  seem  to  be  real,  yet  are  nothing  but  myself  in  dis- 
guise. However  harsh  this  conclusion  may  be,  it  is  the  only 
logical  consequence  of  the  fundamental  principles  of  ideal- 
ism— namely,  that  my  knowledge  is  only  my  thought,  and 
my  ignorance  is  only  my  ceasing  to  think.  These  principles 
I  apply  rigorously  to  every  problem  without  exception,  and 
therefore  I  do  not  hesitate  to  declare  myself  a  solipsist — 
that  is,  one  who  denies  all  real  existence  except  his  own. 
So  long  as  these  principles  stand  unshaken,  it  is  absurd  to 
call  me  ignorant  merely  because  I  assert  that '  the  sun  do 
move ' ;  for  this  assertion,  being  my  expressed  thought,  is  a 
part  of  my  knowledge,  not  of  my  ignorance.  And  you,  gen- 
tlemen phantoms,  whom  I  indulge  in  this  pleasant  pastime 
of  calling  me  ignorant,  only  betray  your  own  phantasmal 
and  untrustworthy  character  when  you  utter  that  very  amus- 
ing bit  of  nonsense.  Laugh  as  you  may,  you  can  never 
begin  with  the  principle  that  knowledge  is  nothing  but 
thought,  and  yet  end  with  any  other  logical  conclusion  than 
mine." 

The  last  word  in  this  instructive  controversy,  however, 
lies  not  with  the  idealist  Jasper,  but  with  his  realist  critics. 
The  idealist  has  been  at  last  driven  to  a  frank  avowal  of 
solipsism  or  absolute  individualism — to  a  frank  confession 
that  he  knows  nothing  but  himself  and  denies  the  existence 
of  anything  but  himself.  But  this  is  the  reduction  of  ideal- 
ism itself  to  glaring  absurdity ;  for  thus  idealism  denies  all 
universal  science,  the  surest  fact  of  human  life,  the  knowl- 
edge by  all  men  of  a  real  universe  in  which  the  individual  is 
only  a  part,  and  a  very  small  part  at  that.  Hence  the  con- 
troversy comes  to  a  necessary  close  in  this  final  response  of 
the  critics : 

"  We  admit  your  candor,  your  courage,  and  your  logical 
consistency,  in  starting  with  the  principle  that  knowledge 
is  nothing  but  your  own  thought,  and  ending  with  the  con- 
clusion that  the  universe  is  nothing  but  yourself.  There 
stands  the  whole  philosophy  of  idealism,  carried  out  heroic- 
ally to  its  only  logical  completion.  But  now  we  join  issue 
on  your  original  first  principle.  We  deny  that  your  knowl- 
edge is  nothing  but  your  individual  thought,  and  your  ig- 
norance nothing  but  your  ceasing  to  think.  Knowledge  is 
thinking  rightly,  and  ignorance  is  thinking  wrongly ;  and 


The  Scientific  Method.  67 

the  objective  standard  of  knowledge  high  above  all  individ- 
ual thought,  the  objective  criterion  of  truth  by  which  right 
thinking  and  wrong  thinking  are  accurately  distinguishable, 
is  the  Scientific  Method,  the  universal  learning  process  by 
which  every  individual  acquires  whatever  knowledge  he  pos- 
sesses, and  by  which  science  itself  has  become  a  vast  body  of 
solidly  established  truth,  over  and  above  all  individual  ac- 
quirements. Through  the  scientific  method,  the  private 
thought  which  is  active  in  innumerable  individuals  becomes 
vitally  organized  into  public  thought;  and  the  supreme 
organism  of  universal  human  reason  gives  authoritative  law 
to  all  individual  thinking.  Do  you  fancy  you  can  think 
like  a  fool  and  not  be  found  out  ?  Science  is  universally 
verified  knowledge  of  a  real  universe  which  includes  count- 
less individuals ;  and  the  very  definition  of  a  fool  is  one  who 
conceives  himself  wiser  than 'science.  The  scientific  method 
of  observation,  hypothesis,  and  verification,  by  which  alone 
truth  has  ever  been  or  can  ever, be  learned,  and  the  validity 
of  which  is  itself  the  most  certain  of  all  facts  known  to  man, 
is  the  organic  life-principle  of  universal  human  reason. 
You  are  an  ignorant  man  because  you  despise  this  universal 
reason — because  you  reject  this  universal  law  of  all  truth- 
seeking  and  truth-finding  ;  and  the  fit  reward  of  your  igno- 
rant self-conceit  is  the  inextinguishable  laughter  of  gods  and 
men." 

Here,  then,  if  you  please,  we  will  drop  the  curtain  upon 
the  stage  and  put  an  end  to  our  little  philosophical  drama. 
It  has  well  served  its  purpose  if  it  has  brought  clearly  be- 
fore you  the  irrepressible  conflict  between  modern  philo- 
sophical idealism  and  modern  scientific  realism,  and  em- 
phasized the  importance,  so  far  as  sound  thinking  is  con- 
cerned, of  a  sound  intellectual  method  in  the  pursuit  of 
truth.  The  question  of  method  in  this  issue  between  sci- 
ence and  idealism  is,  at  bottom,  a  question  of  fundamental 
principles  respecting  the  nature  of  ignorance  and  of  knowl- 
edge. 

The  fundamental  principle  of  idealism  underlying  all  its 
forms — subjective,  objective,  absolute,  or  what  not — is  that 
knowledge  is  nothing  but  thought  and  ignorance  nothing 
but  ceasing  to  think — in  other  words,  that  the  individual 
mind  knows  only  its  own  conscious  states,  and,  from  the 
very  nature  of  knowledge,  can  never  know  any  reality  ex- 
ternal to  itself.  Hence  no  living  or  thinking  man  can  be 


68  The  Scientific  Method. 

ignorant — the  only  ignorant  man  is  the  corpse.  But  ideal- 
ism, as  we  find  it,  always  professes  to  believe  in  external 
reality,  at  least  in  the  form  of  other  human  consciousnesses 
or  of  an  infinite  consciousness,  on  the  sole  warrant  of  some 
alleged  inference,  postulate,  assumption,  deduction  of  reason, 
or  act  of  faith.  All  these,  however,  it  holds  to  fall  far  short 
of  knowledge ;  and  knowledge,  the  supreme  ground  of  certi- 
tude, it  finds  exclusively  in  self-knowledge — in  that  imme- 
diate self-consciousness  which  can  never  know  anything  be- 
yond itself. 

Now,  since  no  form  of  philosophy  has  ever  maintained 
that  the  individual  does  not  know  his  own  conscious  states, 
it  is  clear  as  day  that  the  only  distinctive  principle  of  ideal- 
ism is  a  merely  negative  one,  and  lies  nowhere  but  in  its  ab- 
solute assertion  that  the  individual  can  never  know  an  ex- 
ternal world.  Further,  since  all  self-consciousness  or  self- 
knowledge  is  simply  self-observation,  and  since,  therefore, 
observation  alone  is  knowledge,  as  distinguished  from  infer- 
ence, assumption,  postulation,  deduction,  or  faith,  it  follows 
that  the  whole  essence  of  idealism  is  summed  up  in  this 
short  and  perfectly  intelligible  statement — the  individual 
can  never  observe  an  external  world.  The  whole  activity 
of  idealism  has  been  an  attempt,  forever  hopeless  as  it  ^,  to 
reconcile  this  statement  with  the  fact  of  universal  human 
knowledge. 

For  it  is  precisely  at  this  point  that  idealism  comes  into 
deadly  collision  with  science  and  the  scientific  method.  The 
whole  essence  of  science  is  summed  up  in  this  equally  short 
and  intelligible  statement— maw,  both  individual  and  ge- 
neric, can  and  does  observe  an  external  world.  Idealism 
declares  that  such  observation  is  impossible,  and  therefore 
can  not  be  actual;  science  declares  that  such  observation 
is  actual,  and  therefore  must  be  possible.  Idealism,  culmi- 
nating in  the  Kantian  theory  of  knowledge,  declares  that 
man  has  no  faculty  by  which  he  can  observe  an  external 
world,  and  therefore  knows  none ;  science,  culminating  in 
the  scientific  method,  declares  that  man  already  knows  an 
external  world,  and  therefore  must  have  some  faculty  by 
which  he  can  observe  it.  This  is  the  exact  issue  between 
the  two,  and  it  turns  on  the  essential  nature  of  knowledge 
and  ignorance.  Is  knowledge  nothing  but  thought,  con- 
sciousness, self-observation?  Or  is  it  at  once  both  self- 
observation  and  world-observion  ?  Is  ignorance  nothing 
but  mere  ceasing  to  think  ?  Or  is  it  ceasing  to  think  ac- 


The  Scientific  Method.  69 

cording  to  the  known  facts  and  laws  of  a  known  real  uni- 
verse ? 

Now,  if  knowledge  is  nothing  but  self-observation,  ideal- 
ism is  right ;  but,  if  knowledge  is  both  self -observation  and 
world-observation,  science  is  right.  Since  they  directly  con- 
tradict each  other,  both  can  not  be  right.  The  issue  is 
simply  one  of  fact ;  for,  if  science  plants  itself  upon  world- 
observation  as  a  fact,  idealism  plants  itself  upon  self -obser- 
vation, not  only  as  a  fact,  but  also  as  the  only  possible  fact. 
Despite  its  lofty  claims  and  its  affected  contempt  for  science 
as  founded  on  a  "mere  brute  fact"  or  a  "mere  physical 
fact,"  idealism,  just  as  much  as  science,  rests  on  a  fact  of 
precisely  the  same  nature ;  for  how  is  the  individual  ever  to 
prove  that  he  knows  his  own  conscious  states  ?  If  he  does 
not  know  his  own  consciousness  without  proof  by  reason, 
proof  by  reason  will  not  help  him  in  the  least.  To  attempt, 
to  prove  consciousness  by  reason  is  merely  to  beg  the  ques- 
tion, for  reason  presupposes  consciousness.  Hence  it  is  an 
amusing  affectation  for  idealism  to  claim  an  ultimate  ground 
in  reason ;  its  ultimate  ground,  just  like  that  of  science,  is  a 
mere  fact  and  nothing  but  a  fact. 

The  real  question,  therefore,  is  simply  whether  self-obser- 
vation, which  nobody  disputes,  is  the  whole  fact  or  only  half 
the  fact.  This  question  can  not  be  settled  by  argument 
directly.  But  we  have  at  least  one  direct  and  decisive  test 
to  apply  to  all  possible  answers  to  it — namely,  the  true  an- 
swer, whatever  it  may  be,  must  be  consistent  with  itself,  and 
not  self -contradictory.  This  is  the  test  of  logic,  of  reason, 
of  all  thought ;  and  this  test  idealism,  which  professes  to 
build  upon  thought  alone,  can  not  reject. 

Now,  it  is  the  application  of  the  logical  test  which  proves 
absolutely  fatal  to  idealism,  for  it  shows  that  idealism,  when 
(as  it  always  does)  it  rejects  absolute  individualism  or  solip- 
sism, commits  logical  suicide.  Plainly,  if  I  say  that  I  know 
nothing  whatever  except  my  own  thoughts  or  conscious 
states,  I  do  but  say  in  other  words  that  whatever  I  know, 
whether  Nature,  Man,  or  God,  is  nothing  more  than  my  own 
thoughts  or  conscious  states — can  exist  only  in  myself — can 
not  exist  outside  of  myself ;  I  do  but  say  in  other  words  that 
I  myself,  in  my  poor  little  individuality,  am  the  whole  real 
universe.  Idealism  and  solipsism  can  not  be  separated  logic- 
ally, for  they  are  one  and  the  same  thought.  Yet  idealism 
as  it  is  presented  by  all  idealists  undertakes  to  separate  them, 
and  rejects  solipsism.  It  thus  says  yes  and  no  in  one  breath, 


70  The  Scientific  Method. 

and,  to  the  question  whether  self-observation  is  the  whole 
fact  of  knowledge  or  only  half  that  fact,  it  has  no  answer 
except  one  which  contradicts  and  destroys  itself. 

This  amazing  internal  self-contradiction  in  the  answer 
which  idealism  gives  to  the  fundamental  question  of  all 
philosophy — namely,  "  What  can  I  know  ?  " — is,  of  itself,  the 
unanswerable  refutation  of  its  claim  to  be  philosophy  at  all. 
Yet  let  us  look  further,  since  idealism  and  its  offspring  are 
the  only  dangerous  opponents  of  the  scientific  method  out- 
side of  the  circle  of  theological  dogmatism. 

The  scientific  method  is  essentially  summed  up  in  the 
three  words  observation,  hypothesis,  verification.  The  data 
of  observation,  including  both  self-observation  and  world- 
observation,  comprise  the  whole  materials  of  knowledge. 
These  materials  idealism  arbitrarily  cuts  down  by  half,  and 
its  declaration  that  the  individual  can  not  observe  a  real  ex- 
ternal world  is  the  distinctive  idealistic  principle.  Since, 
however,  this  principle,  if  logically  carried  out,  asserts  the 
absolutely  solitary  existence  of  the  individual  thinker,  and 
therefore  denies  the  existence  of  all  other  individuals,  ideal- 
ism, in  order  to  rescue  itself  from  patent  and  ridiculous  ab- 
surdity, supplements  its  idealistic  principle  by  the  realistic 
inference — that  is,  it  allows  itself  to  concede  the  existence 
of  a  real  external  world  so  far  as  other  individuals  are  con- 
cerned, as  a  mere  inference,  postulate,  or  hypothesis,  which 
can  never  be  converted  into  knowledge  by  any  possible  ob- 
servation. We  have  seen  that  the  idealistic  principle  destroys 
itself  by  self-contradiction  unless  it  is  rigorously  carried  out 
into  positive  denial  of  the  existence  of  all  individuals  except 
the  solitary  thinker ;  or,  in  other  words,  that  solipsism  is  the 
only  self -consistent  form  of  idealism.  But  now  let  us  ask, 
What  is  the  value  of  its  alleged  realistic  inference  ? 

I  answer  that  this  practical  concession  of  the  existence  of 
other  individuals  is  no  inference  at  all,  has  no  logical  value 
whatever,  and  is  at  bottom  nothing  but  a  mere  common- 
sense  belief,  precisely  similar  to  that  "  naive  realism  "  which 
idealists  themselves  are  never  tired  of  satirizing.  The  act- 
ual existence  of  other  individuals  is  not  a  question  of  infer- 
ence at  all,  but  a  question  of  fact ;  and  no  fact  can  be  logic- 
ally inferred  from  another  fact.  Inference  remains  mere 
hypothesis  until  it  has  been  converted  into  knowledge  by 
verification ;  and  all  verification  is  fresh  observation.  That 
is,  mere  unverified  inference  does  not  and  can  not  infer  a 
fact,  except  as  a  merely  possible  fact ;  it  takes  the  verifica- 


The  Scientific  Method.  71 

tion  of  positive  observation  to  convert  a  possible  fact  into  a 
known  fact.  The  scientific  method  nevei  infers  one  fact 
from  another  fact,  except  as  a  simple  hypothesis.  If  it  sus- 
pects the  existence  of  a  hitherto  undiscovered  fact,  it  de- 
vises and  makes  a  new  observation,  and  accepts  or  rejects 
the  new  fact  according  as  it  is  verified  or  not  verified  by  the 
new  observation,  The  logic  of  knowledge  permits  no  other 
course.  Now,  idealism  professes  to  infer  an  external  world, 
spiritual  if  not  material,  from  merely  internal  conscious 
states,  while  yet  it  denies  that  this  new  fact  can  ever  be 
verified  by  observation.  It  is  this  acceptance  of  an  unveri- 
fied inference  as  a  satisfactory  proof,  this  treatment  of  a 
mere  hypothesis  as  an  established  fact,  this  rejection  of 
every  observation  which  could  prove,  establish,  or  verify, 
that  renders  idealism  hopelessly  illogical  and  unscientific, 
and  its  method  thoroughly  irrational  in  the  eyes  of  all  who 
value  either  logic  or  science.  In  truth,  this  professed  infer- 
ence of  outside  consciousnesses  is  as  clear  a  case  as  was  ever 
seen  of  a  thoroughly  naive  and  uncritical  realism.  Strip  it 
of  its  borrowed  peacock  plumes  of  idealistic  phraseology,  and 
we  see  at  once  that  familiar  old  bird,  the  jackdaw  of  com- 
mon sense.  In  short,  the  idealistic  principle  is  suicidally 
self-contradictory,  unless  carried  out  boldly  into  solipsism, 
while  the  realistic  inference  is  no  rational  ground  of  belief, 
unless  supplemented  and  verified  by  that  world-observation 
which  idealism  groundlessly  declares  impossible.  The  sci- 
entific method,  which  no  more  begins  with  a  "  mere  fact " 
than  idealism  itself  does,  but  which  is  wise  enough  to  take 
the  whole  of  the  fact  instead  of  mistaking,  as  idealism  does, 
the  half  for  the  whole,  begins  with  the  primal  fact  of  world- 
observation,  and  uses  inference,  hypothesis,  all  free  intel- 
lectual activity,  as  a  mere  means  to  fresh  world-observation 
in  the  final  fact  of  verification.  Such,  and  such  alone,  is 
the  method  by  which  all  knowledge  of  the  world,  including 
our  own  knowledge  of  ourselves  as  part  of  the  world,  has 
ever  been  or  ever  will  be  won.  Idealism  garbles  the  great 
world-fact,  throws  away  all  knowledge  of  it  that  comes  to 
us  from  without,  and  limits  us  strictly  to  that  which  we 
originate  by  our  own  thought-activity  within ;  but,  instead 
of  adhering  to  the  logic  of  this  idealistic  principle  and  de- 
claring that  the  individual  is  himself  the  whole  universe 
which  he  thus  actively  creates  within  his  own  being,  it  fal- 
ters, fears,  and,  contrary  to  its  own  testimony,  admits  that, 
after  all,  we  are  in  vital  relation  with  at  least  a  spiritual 


72  The  Scientific  Method. 

world  outside  of  us,  and  that  our  whole  morality  and  religion 
consist  in  somehow  putting  ourselves  into  right  relation  with 
it.  Science,  however,  accepts  unmutilated  the  great  world- 
fact,  studies  it  unhampered  by  this  confused  and  halting 
theory,  and  gives  us  that  knowledge  of  it  without  which  we 
never  could  put  ourselves  into  right  relation  with  it.  Which 
of  the  two  better  subserves  the  cause  of  truth,  morality,  and 
religion  ?  Verily,  it  demands  only  a  clear  head  and  a  sound 
conscience  for  truth  to  answer  that  question  in  favor  of  sci- 
ence and  its  matchless  method. 

Idealism  and  science  both  rest  ultimately  upon  a  mere 
fact — one  and  the  same  fact — the  fact  of  observation  or 
direct  knowledge.  But,  while  idealism  curtails  this  fact  by 
half  and  arbitrarily  limits  it  to  self-observation,  or  direct 
knowledge  by  the  individual  of  his  own  consciousness  or 
thought,  science  takes  it  in  its  fullness,  comprehensiveness, 
and  unity,  as  world-observation,  or  direct  knowledge  by  the 
human  race  of  the  world  itself,  including  the  individual  and 
his  self-consciousness. 

With  this  difference  in  starting-point  corresponds  neces- 
sarily a  difference  in  method.  Immured  hopelessly  in  his 
own  consciousness,  as  inclusive  of  all  that  he  can  observe  or 
directly  know,  the  idealistic  individual  struggles  in  vain  to 
arrive  at  knowledge  of  a  real  universe  by  the  method  of 
inference  alone — that  is,  by  the  method  of  hypothesis  with- 
out verification.  Denying  all  direct  observation  of  a  real 
world,  he  can  neither  begin  with  observation  nor  end  with 
observation,  except  within  the  limits  of  his  own  individual 
consciousness ;  and  this  gives  him  no  other  individual,  no 
Nature,  no  God.  Unable,  however,  to  remain  content  with 
himself  as  a  substitute  for  universal  being,  and  eager  to  ar- 
rive at  some  solid  ground  for  ethics  and  religion,  he  forgets 
his  logic,  and  tries  to  make  faith  do  the  work  of  knowledge. 
But,  as  the  whole  history  of  thought  proves,  this  attempt 
eternally  fails ;  hypothesis  without  verification  can  be  con- 
verted into  knowledge  by  no  device  of  inference,  postulate, 
deduction,  or  faith,  and  the  idealistic  method  of  pure  indi- 
vidualism breaks  down  in  utter  failure,  theoretically  and 
practically  alike. 

But  science  is  fettered  by  no  such  arbitrary  and  ruinous 
curtailment  of  its  method.  The  scientific  individual  begins 
with  direct  observation  as  knowledge  in  the  first  instance, 
and  he  proceeds  to  enlarge  this  original  knowledge  by  the 
scientific  method  of  hypothesis  with  verification — that  is,  he 


The  Scientific  Method.  73 

subjects  every  inference  to  the  test  of  verification  by  fresh 
observation.  No  scientific  individual  ever  aspires,  as  the 
idealist  invariably  does,  to  begin  with  himself  alone  and 
merely  infer  his  way  to  real  knowledge  of  a  real  universe ; 
the  first  step  he  takes  is  to  recognize  the  existence  of  a  vast 
accumulation  of  universal  human  knowledge,  acquired  be- 
fore he  was  born,  and  now  to  be  enlarged  a  little  by  him,  if 
he  can  only  add  a  little  new  knowledge  to  the  world's  great 
stock  of  it.  He  observes,  he  hypothesizes,  he  verifies  by 
observing  once  more  how  far  his  hypothesis  agrees  with  the 
real  world ;  and  then  he  is  ready  to  offer  his  modest  con- 
tribution of  discovery  to  his  fellow-men. 

Now  begins  a  process,  a  most  important  process,  of  which 
no  idealist  can  conceive  even  the  possibility ;  for,  denying 
that  the  individual  can  acquire  one  iota  of  knowledge  of  an 
external  world,  he,  of  course,  denies  that  the  individual  can 
contribute  one  iota  of  it  to  any  general  treasury  of  world- 
knowledge.  But  the  scientific  man,  when  he  has  made  a 
real  discovery  and  verified  it  carefully  and  conscientiously, 
knows  well  that  verification  for  himself  is  by  no  means 
verification  for  mankind.  Convinced  as  he  may  be  of  the 
truth  of  his  new  observation,  he  nevertheless  knows  well 
that  it  can  not  yet  be  declared  or  treated  as  a  part  of  uni- 
versal human  knowledge.  The  new  discovery  must  be  flung 
into  the  arena  of  the  world,  and  battle  for  its  life  against 
the  wild  beasts  of  ignorance,  indifference,  incredulity,  preju- 
dice, jealousy,  envy,  hatred,  malice,  and  all  uncharitable- 
ness.  Before  the  new  truth,  no  matter  how  well  verified 
to  the  discoverer's  own  mind,  can  become  verified  to  the 
world's  mind,  it  must  run  the  gantlet  of  universal  criti- 
cism ;  it  must  be  doubted,  denied,  assailed,  maligned,  and 
hustled  about  unmercifully ;  it  must  be  subjected  to  fresh 
verification  by  every  trained  investigator  who  suspects  that 
it  may  be  indeed  a  truth ;  it  must  thereby  conquer  here 
and  there  a  new  adherent,  and  prove  itself  to  be  a  truth  in- 
deed by  conquering  at  last  the  adhesion  of  all  who  are  com- 
petent to  be  its  judge. 

This  process  by  which  a  new  discovery,  after  meeting  suc- 
cessfully the  severest  tests  of  fresh  examination,  and  after 
being  confirmed  by  the  independent  investigations  of  all 
whose  judgment  is  entitled  to  weight,  passes  gradually  into 
the  category  of  established  truths — this  process  by  which 
verification  for  the  individual  is  slowly  deepened  and  ex- 
tended into  verification  for  the  race,  through  the  slowly 


74  The  Scientific  Method. 

formed  opinion  of  all  whose  proved  acquirement  has  made 
them  lawful  judges  in  that  special  department  of  investiga- 
tion— this  process,  I  say,  is  an  integral  part  of  the  scientific 
method,  and  constitutes  its  irrefutable  superiority  to  the 
method  of  idealism  or  pure  individualism.  Idealism  con- 
ceives no  higher  authority,  criterion,  or  test  of  truth  than 
the  private  reason  of  the  individual ;  but  science,  developed 
into  philosophy,  conceives  the  organization  of  innumerable 
private  reasons  into  the  one  universal  reason  of  the  race, 
and,  in  this  organized  reason  of  mankind,  which  is  infinitely 
removed  from  a  mere  multitude  of  individual  reasons  as 
such,  discerns  that  supreme  authority,  test,  or  criterion  of 
truth  from  which  dissent  is  ignorance,  in  its  only  intelligi- 
ble sense.  In  the  unanimous  agreement  of  all  who,  by 
actual  achievement  or  by  admirable  work  done,  have  com- 
pelled universal  recognition  of  their  right  to  pass  a  weighty 
judgment  in  any  branch  of  science — that  is,  in  the  unani- 
mous consensus  of  the  competent — lies  the  supreme  tribunal 
which  alone  can  decide  authoritatively  what  is  known  and 
what  is  not  known.  All  questions  remain  open  questions 
in  science  until  absolute  unanimity  is  reached;  no  judg- 
ment can  be  claimed  to  have  been  authoritatively  given 
until  dissent  has  already  died  down  into  silence  among  the 
judges  themselves.  But  their  unanimous  voice  is  the  high- 
est authority  or  test  of  truth  to  which  man,  for  whom  there 
is  no  infallibility  anywhere,  can  possibly  appeal.  It  is  in 
virtue  of  this  authority  alone  that  schools  and  universities 
exist ;  for  how  could  they  exist  if  there  were  no  solidly  es- 
tablished truth  to  teach  ?  On  the  wall  of  Science  Hall,  at 
Smith  College,  I  read,  a  few  weeks  since,  this  simple  and 
impressive  inscription : 

"  The  Gift  of  Alfred  Theodore  Lilly,  to  teach  the  Truth  in 
Nature." 

Yes,  to  teach  the  truth  in  Nature,  not,  as  idealism  con- 
fusedly claims,  on  the  warrant  of  any  individual's  deduction, 
inference,  assumption,  postulate,  or  faith,  but  on  the  war- 
rant of  the  consensus  of  the  competent  alone,  on  the  au- 
thority of  that  organic  reason  of  humanity  which  the  con- 
sensus of  the  competent  alone  has  any  shadow  of  right  to 
represent,  to  interpret,  and  to  expound — to  teach  the  truth 
in  Nature;  for  that,  and  nothing  else,  every  school  and 
every  university  exists,  even  when  ignorant  and  incompe- 
tent professors  deny  all  knowledge  of  that  truth,  and  teach 
their  own  empty  vagaries  in  its  stead.  It  is  not  an  open 


The  Scientific  Method.  75 

question  whether  such  truth  exists ;  it  is  not  an  open  question 
whether  such  truth  is  known  and  can  be  taught ;  every  uni- 
versity in  the  civilized  world  is  demonstration  that  it  exists, 
is  known,  can  be  taught.  Strange  indeed  it  is,  strange  be- 
yond belief,  that  the  existence  of  the  knowledge  of  Nature 
should  be  denied  in  the  name  of  "philosophy,  falsely  so 
called."  The  time  is  fast  approaching  when  all  such  phi- 
losophy will  melt  away  like  mist  before  the  sun.  The  next 
age  will  be  the  age  of  the  scientific  method,  and  not  much 
longer  will  the  philosophy  of  the  scientific  method  tarry 
beneath  the  horizon ;  for  nothing  save  the  scientific  method, 
the  work  of  no  individual  man,  but  the  grand  self-affirma- 
tion of  the  living  and  organic  reason  of  the  universal  hu- 
man race,  can  declare  authoritatively  what  is  that  truth  in 
Nature  which  is  the  solid  ground  of  all  true  ethics  »nd 
religion  ;  for  nothing  else  can  ever  emancipate  man  from 
the  delusive  idealisms,  individualisms,  agnosticisms,  posi- 
tivisms, and  mysticisms  which  now  tyrannize  over  his  half- 
taught  mind.  It  will  take  more  than  idealistic  sophistry  to 
put  down  the  scientific  method,  or  the  philosophy  which  it 
is  destined  to  create.  This  is  not  the  place  or  time  to  tell 
my  dream  of  what  its  teachings  will  be,  nor  is  it  needed  that 
I  should  do  so;  enough  to  know  that  they  will  be  more 
beautiful  than  any  or  all  of  our  dreams,  and  bring  out  of 
the  universal  soul  of  man  the  sublimest  thoughts  about  God 
and  Nature,  about  man  the  individual  and  man  the  society, 
about  freedom,  courage,  and  hope,  and  duty,  and  about 
destiny,  which  can  spring  out  of  the  concentrated  wisdom 
of  the'universal  reason  of  the  race.  And  best  of  all  is  it  to 
know  that  the  sublimest  thoughts  of  man,  wrought  out  by 
his  sublimest  instrument,  the  scientific  method,  fall  infinitely 
short  of  the  truth  as  it  is  in  Nature. 


76  Tlie  Scientific  Method. 


ABSTRACT  OF  THE  DISCUSSION. 

MR.  GEORGE  ILKS  : 

Among  the  recent  decisions  by  that  supreme  court  of  reason  -which 
Dr.  Abbot  has  so  impressively  described  to  us  is  the  one  which  this 
society  exists  to  teach  and  to  enlarge — evolution.  As  that  truth  has 
dawned  upon  the  world,  the  atmosphere  of  controversy  has  undergone 
a  notable  change.  Old  elements  of  irritation  have  melted  away,  and 
the  clearing  air  gives  inquiry  a  keener  edge  than  it  ever  had.  Before 
the  latter  half  of  this  century,  when,  for  example,  a  man  of  science 
argfied  with  a  theologian  about  miracles,  the  debate  was  apt  to  turn 
upon  the  direct  issue  of  truth  or  error.  The  man  of  science  would  ad- 
duce grounds  for  holding  that  miracles  never  did  or  could  happen,  and 
very  probably  add  to  his  case  the  innuendo  that  belief  in  miracles  was 
based  on  fraud  and  sustained  by  willful  ignorance.  To-day  claims  con- 
tinue to  be  made  by  powerful  institutions  around  us  of  access  to  high- 
er sources  of  knowledge  than  mere  observation,  hypothesis,  and  verifi- 
cation. We  are  pointed  to  revelations  of  supernatural  descent  as  the 
only  sources  of  light  regarding  man's  relation  to  the  all  and  the  high- 
est. Here  the  method  of  science  departs  from  the  old  controversial 
practice.  The  leaves  of  human  history  are  turned,  and  from  such  of 
them  as  may  be  deciphered  we  read  how  the  supernatural  came  to  be 
believed  in.  And  as  the  time  and  place  of  birth  of  that  belief  are 
gradually  restored  to  us,  then,  incidentally,  the  question  of  truth  or 
error  is  settled.  To  disprove  an  error  is  much,  to  explain  how  it  came 
to  be  deemed  truth  is  more,  to  rightly  appraise  inheritances  of  mingled 
truth  and  error  is  most  of  all. 

When  our  fathers  in  the  long  ago  beheld  lightning  and  tempest,  were 
awed  by  the  starry  heavens,  felt  the  suggestions  of  the  closing  grave, 
knew  that  good  men  were  often  miserable,  and  the  wicked  often  pros- 
perous, they  interpreted  the  facts  as  they  saw  them.  Their  eyes  may 
have  been  dim,  their  reasoning  capacity  defective,  yet  their  method,  if 
by  stretch  of  courtesy  we  can  call  it  such,  was  the  scientific  method  in 
the  making.  The  claim  of  unalterableness,  of  infallibility,  marks  the 
earliness  of  the  age  which  proclaimed  it.  Men  of  old  thought  of  truth 
as  of  a  thing  they  might  grasp  as  fully  and  perfectly  as  a  child's  hand 
holds  a  pebble.  They  had  no  conception  of  the  infinity  and  complexity 
of  the  universe  as  we  see  it,  its  every  thread  interlaced  with  every 
other,  so  that  we  think  of  truth  as  of  the  shimmering  face  of  a  star, 


The  Scientific  Method.  77 

discerned  through  difficulties  of  distance,  distortions  of  media,  defects 
of  the  seeing  eye.  It  is  as  if  the  tree  of  knowledge  had  been  uprooted 
as  a  sapling,  labeled  Ultimate,  and  now  were  made  to  do  duty  for  tho 
thing  of  life  and  infinite  expansion  which  knowledge  really  is.  The 
conflict  we  hear  so  much  about  is  really,  then,  a  conflict  between  new 
science  and  old,  or  rather  between  new  science  and  old  guesses.  Yet, 
after  all,  too  much  must  not  be  made  of  the  war  so  strenuously  waged 
against  theology ;  it  is  but  a  particular  case  of  the  antagonism  between 
belated  thought  and  new  thought,  which  we  can  see  just  as  plainly  in 
the  exchanges,  the  courts,  the  legislatures,  as  in  the  churches ;  views 
essentially  transient  become  crystallized  into  institutions  and  remain 
long  after  their  usefulness  has  departed. 

Of  derivative  alliance  with  the  claims  we  have  been  glancing  at  is 
the  intuitional  philosophy  once  counting  many  disciples  in  America, 
but  now  a  philosophy  we  hear  comparatively  little  about.  It  ceased  to 
thrive  when  evolution  explained  intuitions  as  due  to  experiences,  not 
always  either  profound  or  clear  which  had  coalesced  in  consciousness 
so  long  as  to  have  forgotten  their  age,  and  at  last  come  to  deny  ever 
having  been  born  at  all.  To  the  objections  of  the  intuitionalist*  were 
often  joined  those  of  other  critics ;  it  was  said  man  has  other  modes 
of  apprehension  than  by  his  intellect,  and  therefore  the  scientific  meth- 
od, intellectual  as  it  is,  can  not  have  sway  in  more  than  a  province  of 
human  experience.  For  man  feels  no  less  than  reasons ;  indeed,  he  feels 
more  than  he  reasons.  To  this  the  answer  is  modern  psychology,  so 
fast  becoming  an  ordered,  coherent,  and  luminous  body  of  truth. 
Emotion,  sentiment,  will,  may  count  for  the  larger  part  of  man,  yet  is 
intellect  their  observer,  examiner,  and  judge.  The  scales  may  balance 
many  things  weightier  than  themselves.  Science  acknowledges  no 
limits  to  its  jurisdiction,  sets  no  bound  to  its  future  conquests.  Dr. 
Abbot  has  effectively  gainsaid  the  position  that  knowledge  can  be 
phenomenal  only.  We  know  a  thing  in  its  appearances,  and  if  there  be 
no  unknowable,  then  every  problem  of  nature  and  life  offers  itself  for 
solution  to  faithful  inquiry  and  patient  thinking. 

In  this  connection  let  me  say  that  an  important  educational  ad- 
vance in  the  scientific  method  is  taking  shape  in  the  neighboring  city. 
For  some  time  past  Prof,  Felix  Adler.  leader  of  the  Society  for  Ethical 
Culture,  has  been  advocating  the  establishment  of  a  School  of  Philos- 
ophy and  Applied  Ethics.  In  this  school  it  is  proposed  that  the  lead- 
ing phases  of  philosophy  shall  be  taught  by  men  who  are  disciples  of 
the  thinkers  they  expound.  Religion  is  to  be  studied  from  the  his- 
torical standpoint,  and  the  comparative  method  will  be  applied  to  the 
study  of  the  evolution  of  religious  doctrines,  institutions,  and  cere- 
monies. 


78  The  Scientific  Method. 

The  department  of  Applied  Ethics  is  intended  to  embrace  educa- 
tion, economics,  and  practical  reforms.  The  method  of  artificially  pro- 
tecting the  truth,  or  what  is  supposed  to  be  the  truth,  from  contact 
with  error  is  to  be  abandoned  for  the  better  plan  of  inviting  the  dif- 
ferent systems  of  thought  to  enter  into  free  competition  with  one  an- 
other, in  the  expectation  that  that  which  is  intrinsically  the  strongest 
will  prevail,  and  that  a  higher  and  larger  form  of  truth  will  be  the 
outcome  of  the  conflict  of  ideas.  No  student  is  to  be  pledged  before- 
hand to  arrive  at  certain  conclusions.  No  professor  or  instructor  shall 
be  appointed  or  excluded  because  of  any  opinions  he  may  or  may  not 
hold.  Intellectual  and  moral  fitness  are  to  be  the  only  tests  applied. 
Toward  the  realization  of  these  plans  progress  is  being  made.  On  De- 
cember 5th  the  convention  of  ethical  societies  will  meet  in  New  York, 
and  then  it  is  expected  that  definite  steps  will  be  taken  to  give  Amer- 
ica its  first  free  college. 

REV.  JOHN  W.  CHADWICK: 

I  am  extremely  glad  that  we  have  had  the  privilege  and  pleasure  of 
hearing  Dr.  Abbot  speak.  I  have  heard  him  many  times,  and  never 
without  satisfaction  and  delight,  though  sometimes  when  he  has  said 
"  Come  right  along,"  and  has  gone  through  the  philosophical  stream 
without  wetting  his  feet,  I  have  found  the  waters  over  my  head.  I  have 
watched  the  growth  of  his  philosophic  system  with  the  greatest  interest 
and  perhaps  with  a  too  lively  confidence,  it  has  tallied  so  agreeably 
with  the  predilections  of  my  own  mind  and  heart.  We  have  had  many 
essays  about  philosophers  read  to  the  association  from  the  first,  and 
they  have  been  very  fine  and  good,  but  I  must  say  that  it  is  particularly 
good  to  have  a  real  live  philosopher  expounding  to  us  his  own  system. 
And  yet  I  must  make  bold  to  say  that  if  Dr.  Abbot's  system  were 
something  quite  peculiar  to  himself  I  should  distrust  it  as  I  do  not 
now.  I  should  fear  it  might  be  his  idiosyncrasy  come  in  the  line  of 
the  world's  growing  thought.  I  do  not  know  a  truer  judgment  than 
that  of  my  friend  Joseph  Henry  Allen  when  he  says :  "  The  only  intel- 
lectual scheme  that  history  respects  is  that  which  grows  by  its  own  slow 
irresistible  process  from  the  contributions  of  millions  of  honest,  intel- 
ligent, thinking  men  who  do  each  his  best  to  shape  his  own  thought  to 
the  demand  of  his  own  time."  Now.  while  Dr.  Abbot's  thought  im- 
presses me  by  its  originality  and  by  the  force  and  clearness  of  his  ex- 
position, what  I  value  it  most  for  is  for  that  element  it  has  in  common 
with  the  philosophy  of  many  other  thinkers  in  our  time,  that  element 
in  which  science  and  philosophy,  psychology  and  metaphysics,  are  find- 
ing the  adjustment  of  their  long-standing  differences  and  dislikes — the 
idea  of  organic  evolution  which  resolves  matter  and  spirit  ultimately 


The  Scientific  Method.  79 

into  one  substance  which  is  more  than  either  and  includes  them  both, 
for  which  we  have  no  better  name  than  God. 

If  I  have  any  criticism  to  make  on  Dr.  Abbot— and  this  may  be 
more  of  his  two  noble  books  than  of  the  lecture  of  to-night — it  is  with 
reference  to  his  seeming  implication  that  the  world  must  wait  for 
science  to  give  it  assurance  of  a  God,  and  that  the  world's  belief  in  God 
has  been  heretofore  without  any  real  legitimacy.  I  do  not  believe  this. 
I  believe  that  the  world  has  experienced  religion,  that  it  has  experienced 
God,  that  the  unscientific  man  has  a  belief  in  him  which  is  perfectly 
legitimate— a  belief  which  science  may  clarify  and  confirm,  but  which 
it  has  not  given  and  which  it  can  never  take  away.  I  speak  under  cor- 
rection, and  if  there  is  not  the  implication  I  have  mentioned  I  am  very 
glad.  Perhaps  Dr.  Abbot  would  say  that  as  there  is  much  uncon- 
scious cerebration,  so  is  there  much  unconscious  science  which  in  the 
past  has  anticipated  rudely  what  scientific  realism  or  relationism  has 
made  wholly  clear  and  bright. 

REV.  THEODORE  C.  WILLIAMS  :  * 

The  lecture  of  Dr.  Abbot,  while  it  illustrates  to  my  mind  the  saying 
that  "  the  knowledge  of  God  is  full  of  difficulties,"  also  encourages  me 
to  believe  that  we  can  finally  work  through  the  difficulties  and  not  be 
compelled  to  rest  content  in  the  negative  attitude  of  agnosticism.  I 
believe  that  a  reconciliation  is  coming  between  philosophy  and  science, 
though  I  am  not  able  to  believe  that  it  will  be  brought  about  in  the 
way  set  forth  by  Dr.  Abbot.  My  criticism  upon  his  essay  would  be 
that  he  has  spent  too  much  time  in  knocking  down  a  man  of  straw, 
which  exists  only  in  his  own  hypersensitive  imagination.  I  came 
here  to-night  hoping  to  be  enlightened  by  a  clear  presentation  of  the 
lecturer's  own  theory  of  knowledge,  and  have  been  somewhat  disap- 
pointed that  he  has  spent  so  much  effort  in  exposing  the  fallacy  of 
"  solipsism,"  in  which  no  sensible  idealist  believes. 

A  resume  of  the  history  of  philosophy  shows  that  all  the  great 
metaphysicians  have  been  working  at  this  problem.  Dr.  Abbot  has 
not  done  justice  to  their  work,  nor  has  he,  as  far  as  I  can  see,  given  us 
any  new  idea.  I  suppose  modern  psychology  has  hardly  advanced  in 
its  theory  of  knowledge  beyond  the  statement  of  Ferrier,  which  I 
learned  in  my  school  days— that  the  ultimate  psychic  act  makes  known 
to  us  both  subject  and  object.  Beyond  this  we  can  hardly  go ;  and  in 

*  No  complete  report  of  Mr.  Williams's  remarks  was  made  at  the  time  of  their 
delivery.  The  accompanying  abstract,  much  condensed,  is  made  up  from  very 
insufficient  data,  hut  has  b.-rn  submitted  to  Mr.  Williams  and  is  recognized  by 
him  as  substantially  correct,  though  necessarily  incomplete.  Mr.  \v  illiams  gave 
a  very  interesting  resumt  of  the  history  of  philosophy  in  the  course  or  nis  re- 
marks. 


80  The  Scientific  Method. 

the  recognition  of  this  fundamental  principle  we  find  a  corrective  of 
the  tendency  to  solipsism  which  Dr.  Abbot  has  endeavored  to  combat, 
as  well  as  a  justification  for  a  rational  idealism,  which,  I  think,  is 
the  accepted  philosophy  of  the  present  day. 

DB.  ROBERT  G.  ECCLES: 

I  agree  almost  perfectly  with  the  last  speaker,  though  I  am  no  ideal- 
ist. It  seems  to  me  that  the  principles  which  he  has  laid  down  and 
indorsed  are  those  which  must  underlie  all  scientific  conceptions  of 
the  nature  of  knowledge,  but  that  their  logical  outcome  is  not  solip- 
sism or  any  extreme  form  of  idealism,  but  the  "  transfigured  realism  " 
of  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer.  I  can  not  agree  with  Dr.  Abbot  that  the  true 
test  of  scientific  knowledge  is  the  "  consensus  of  the  competent." 
Who  are  "  the  competent "  f  Those  whom  the  world  has  recognized 
as  "  the  competent  "  in  past  ages  have  been  the  persecutors  of  science ; 
they  have  condemned  the  men  who  were  actnally  in  the  right  to  the 
dungeon  and  the  stake.  The  criterion  set  up  by  the  lecturer  seems  to 
me  to  be  no  true  test  of  knowledge  because  it  is  itself  in  need  of  a  test 
whereby  to  establish  its  claims.  Who  shall  decide  who  "the  compe- 
tent "  are  in  any  given  instance  ?  We  need  another  "  consensus  of  the 
competent "  to  decide  who  the  competent  are,  and  so  on  ad  infinitum. 
D^r.  Abbot's  test  actually  relegates  the  criterion  of  truth  to  the  bar  of 
individual  opinion,  and  is  therefore  not  a  scientific  test  at  all.  Each 
man  will  decide  for  himself  who  are  the  competent  according  to  his 
own  individual  bias.  The  true  test  of  the  scientific  value  of  opinions 
is  the  agreement  thereof  with  objective  facts.  That  theory  is  true 
and  has  scientific  justification  which  agrees  with  all  the  facts  to  which 
it  relates,  no  matter  if  the  promulgator  be  in  a  minority  of  one.  Bruno 
and  Galileo  are  thus  justified,  though  the  theories  they  promulgated 
were  new  to  the  world  and  were  rejected  by  "  the  competent,"  or  those 
recognized  as  such,  in  their  own  time. 

DR.  LEWIS  G.  JANES: 

To  me,  I  must  confess,  Dr.  Abbot's  doctrine  of  the  "  consensus  of 
the  competent"  as  the  ultimate  criterion  of  knowledge  has  always 
seemed  the  strongest  part  of  his  system.  Dr.  Eccles's  remarks  appear 
to  me  somewhat  hypercritical.  Dr.  Abbot's  rejection  of  the  Spencerian 
"  unknowable  "  seems  to  me  to  be  based  on  an  imperfect  comprehension 
of  that  doctrine,  and  of  the  psycho-physiological  principles  and  facts 
upon  which  it  is  based.  Admitting  the  arbitrary  limitations  of  the 
human  faculties  of  sense-perception,  whereby  we  have  contact  with 
an  external  reality,  this  doctrine  follows  as  a  logical  and  inevitable 
deduction.  I  sympathize  strongly  with  Dr.  Abbot,  however,  in  his 


The  Scientific  Method.  81 

affirmation  of  the  competence  of  the  human  reason  to  deal  with  these 
great  problems  of  thought. 

Ma.  RAYMOND  S.  PERRIN: 

Mr.  Perrin  complimented  Dr.  Abbot  on  his  able  and  interesting 
lecture  and  briefly  commented  thereon,  in  the  main  agreeing  with  the 
lecturer. 


HERBERT  SPENCER'S 
SYNTHETIC  PHILOSOPHY 


BY 

BENJAMIN  P.  UNDERWOOD 


COLLATERAL  READINGS  SUGGESTED: 

Spencer's  First  Principles,  Principles  of  Biology,  Principles  of  Psy- 
chology, Principles  of  Sociology,  Data  of  Ethics,  and  Chapters  on  Jus- 
tice, in  Popular  Science  Monthly ;  Fiske's  Cosmic  Philosophy ;  Thomp- 
son's A  System  of  Psychology ;  Cazelles's  Evolution  Philosophy ;  E.  L. 
Youmans's  Lecture  on  Herbert  Spencer  and  the  Doctrine  of  Evolution^ 
in  Gazelles. 


HERBERT  SPENCER'S  SYNTHETIC 
PHILOSOPHY.* 

BY  B.  P.  UNDERWOOD. 

THE  movement  imparted  to  philosophy  by  the  applica- 
tion of  the  "  Newtonian  method  "  to  philosophical  problems 
gave  rise  to  that  form  of  sensationalism  which  originated 
with  Locke  and  culminated  with  Hume.  Its  motto  was : 
Nihil  est  in  intellects,  quod  non  fuerit  in  sensu. 

Before  this  movement  was  started  philosophical  tenets 
were  principally  deduced  from  "innate  ideas."  Descartes 
had  appealed  to  the  innate  idea  of  God  as  ens  realissimum, 
as  supreme  truth,  with  which  all  philosophy  had  to  con- 
form ;  and  to  Leibnitz  innate  ideas  afforded  the  main  prem- 
ises for  philosophical  deductions.  But,  of  course,  if  there 
is  nothing  in  mind  but  what  enters  into  it  through  the 
senses,  there  can  not  be  any  innate  ideas,  such,  for  instance, 
as  an  innate  idea  of  "  God  "  or  of  "  immortal  soul."  All 
knowledge  must,  then,  be  derived  from  sensorial  experience. 

The  negative  or  destructive  phase  of  the  sensation  phi- 
losophy resulted  consistently  in  the  annihilation  of  all  ideas 
not  sense-derived.  Its  positive  or  constructive  phase  con- 
sisted in  the  attempt  to  build  up  knowledge  out  of  sensorial 
data  alone. 

Berkeley  dissipated  the  idea  of  the  "  extended  substance," 
or  matter  as  externally  subsisting,  by  showing  that  the  sen- 
sorial elements  entering  into  the  idea  of  matter — its  primary 
qualities,  such  as  extension,  form,  etc.,  as  well  as  its  second- 
ary qualities,  such  as  hardness,  color,  etc. — that  all  these 
elements,  without  exception,  are  subjective,  mere  modes  of 
feeling;  that  the  belief  that  there  exists  an  extended, 
formed,  hard,  and  colored  substance  outside  the  perceiving 
mind  is  an  illusion.  Berkeley  made  use  of  this  way  of  rea- 
soning to  combat  materialism,  and  to  glorify  the  idea  of 
God  and  of  the  immortality  of  man.  With  him  it  was  God 
who  awakened  the  sensorial  perceptions  in  us,  and  our  im- 
mortal soul  that  perceived  them. 

*  This  lecture  is  intended  not  merely  as  an  exposition  of  the  Synthetic  Philoso- 
phy, but  also  as  a  history  of  its  origin,  and  its  relation  to  other  systems,  especially 
to  those  of  Hume  and  Kant. 


86  Herbert  Spencer's  Synthetic  Philosophy. 

Hume,  following  Berkeley's  manner  of  reasoning,  aimed 
to  show  that  our  belief  in  the  "  thinking  substance  "  or  soul 
is  just  as  much  an  illusion  as  our  belief  in  the  extended 
substance  or  matter ;  and  that  no  sensorial  experience  can 
bring  us  any  knowledge  of  supreme  being  awakening  per- 
ceptions in  us.  The  sensation  philosophy  had  thus  run  out 
in  complete  nihilism — a  godless,  soulless,  matterless  world, 
consisting  of  nothing  but  sensorial  elements  more  or  less 
closely  connected  by  mental  links,  so  as  to  form  a  somewhat 
consistent  experience. 

Amid  these  nihilistic  implications  of  the  sensation  phi- 
losophy it  remained  clear  beyond  doctrinal  cavil  that  the 
sensorial  particulars  leave  faint  copies  behind  them  in  mem- 
ory; and  that  these  faint  copies,  called  ideas,  enter  into 
manifold  combinations  among  themselves,  and  also  with  the 
direct  or  vivid  sensorial  feelings.  The  question  concerning 
the  nature  of  the  bond  of  connection  between  experiential 
data  became  from  now  on  the  principal  question  in  philoso- 
phy. Hume  had  rendered  it  evident  that  the  connection 
between  the  direct,  vivid,  matter-of-fact  data  is  of  an  essen- 
tially different  kind  from  that  between  the  faint  remem- 
bered copies  of  them — different,  above  all,  from  mere  logical 
connection. 

In  modern  philosophy,  through  the  influence  of  Descartes 
and  Leibnitz,  the  method  of  acquiring  knowledge  was  held 
to  be  exclusively  that  of  deduction,  as  taught  by  formal 
logic ;  the  ancient  and  current  method  of  syllogistic  reason- 
ing from  universals  to  particulars. 

Hume's  argumentation  left  no  doubt  that  direct  matter-of- 
fact  knowledge  is  derived  in  an  opposite  manner — namely, 
by  beginning  with  particular  sensorial  feelings,  whose  con- 
'nection  is  not  ascertained  by  a  process  of  thought,  but  is 
entirely  given  in  direct  sensorial  experience.  Not  because 
I  originally  have  the  general  idea  that  fire  burns  do  I  know 
that  this  particular  fire  will  burn  when  I  touch  it :  but  be- 
cause I  have  numbers  of  times  experienced  that  particular 
fires  burn,  have  I  formed  the  general  idea  that  all  fires  burn. 
This  means  that  the  logical  connection  found  to  exist  in 
the  realm  of  ideas  is  secondary  to  the  real  connection  found 
to  exist  in  the  realm  of  sensorial  experience.  The  connec- 
tion between  natural  events  or  matter-of-fact  occurrences 
can  be  derived  solely  through  sensorial  experience,  and  can 
not  be  arrived  at  by  purely  logical  or  mental  processes. 
Causal  connection  differs  toto  genere  from  logical  connection. 


Herbert  Spencer's  Synthetic  Philosophy.  87 

The  relation  of  cause  and  effect  consists  merely  in  the 
succession  of  our  impressions  and  ideas.  The  sequence  is 
ideal  and  its  order  has  become  established  by  a  habit  of  ex- 
pectation derived  from  many  and  frequent  experiences  of  a 
definite  succession  of  impressions.  Thus  the  sight  of  a  flame 
having  been  uniformly  followed  by  the  feeling  of  heat,  this 
feeling  will  always  in  the  future  arise  vividly  whenever  and 
wherever  a  flame  is  seen.  The  connection  of  cause  and  effect 
is  therefore  only  ideal,  having  no  relation  to  an  invariable 
permanent  objective  order,  being  only  a  subjective  bond  be- 
tween the  transitory  particulars  of  sense  and  their  reflected 
remembrance. 

Besides  the  fundamental  distinction  between  causal  con- 
nection and  logical  connection  implied  in  Hume's  argumen- 
tation, the  derivation  of  all  ideas  from  sensorial  experience 
— purely  experiential  links  forming  the  connection  between 
these  data  of  knowledge — gave  rise  to  what  is  known  as 
English  experientialism,  or  the  association  philosophy.  The 
aim  of  this  philosophical  method  is  to  discover  the  general 
laws  that  govern  the  association  of  ideas  experientially  de- 
rived, and  to  show  that  all  our  complex  ideas  are  formed  by 
association  of  experienced  particulars,  in  accordance  with 
those  general  laws. 

It  was  Hume's  elucidation  of  the  process  of  matter-of-fact 
experience  that  awakened  Kant  from  the  "  dogmatic  slum- 
ber "  into  which  he  had  been  rocked  by  the  purely  logical 
or  deductive  philosophy  of  the  Leibnitz- Wolffian  school, 
"  leading  him,"  as  Dr.  Edmund  Montgomery  says,  "  to  dis- 
cover the  enchanted  path  traveled  by  so  many  since,  on 
which  the  charmed  wanderer  is  carried,  far  away  from  real 
nature,  to  the  mystic  realm  of  transcendental  idealism."  By 
this  school  of  thought  it  has  been  taken  for  granted  incon- 
testably  that  the  general  ideas  or  so-called  concepts,  found 
ready-made  in  our  mind  when  we  begin  to  philosophize,  are 
eternal  and  universal  verities  implanted  in  us  independently 
of  all  external  experience,  and  that  our  understanding  of 
truth  is  arrived  at  solely  by  deriving  it  from  these  pre-exist- 
ing concepts  by  means  of  syllogistic  reasoning. 

Kant  was  the  first  fully  to  appreciate  the  important  im- 
plications involved  in  Hume's  experiential  derivation  of  all 
knowledge ;  for  if  there  is  really  no  other  way  of  arriving 
at  the  knowledge  of  truth  than  that  of  accepting  it  as  it 
comes  to  us  in  sensorial  experience,  and  if  the  knowledge  of 
such  truth  consists  simply  in  an  experienced  connection  of 


88  Herbert  Spencer's  Synthetic  Philosophy. 

eensorial  and  therefore  wholly  natural  data,  then  all  meta- 
physical conceptions  out  of  which  philosophy  had  been 
hitherto  constructed  could  be  nothing  but  idle  illusions,  and 
all  existing  metaphysics  nothing  but  a  baseless  dream,  a  mere 
castle  in  the  air. 

Kant's  life-long  and  most  earnest  endeavor  was  to  extricate 
philosophy  from  these  God  and  soul  eliminating  implications 
of  sensorial  experientialism.  With  him  the  problem  assumed 
the  following  form  :  Is  our  mind  endowed  or  not  endowed 
with  a  faculty  of  forming  a  priori  synthetical  propositions? 
Or,  in  other  words,  is  it  or  is  it  not  capable  of  forming 
knowledge  of  some  kind  without  the  existence  of  sensorial 
experience  ?  If  not,  then  the  cause  of  metaphysical  philoso- 
phy is  hopeless. 

Kant  believed  that  in  pure  mathematics  he  had  discovered 
a  kind  of  knowledge  constructed  wholly  from  a  priori  data 
by  the  mind  without  the  aid  of  sensorial  experience.  That 
the  truths  of  pure  mathematics  consist  of  such  a  priori  syn- 
thetical propositions  is  the  fundamental  assertion  upon 
which  the  entire  Kantian  philosophy  is  grounded.  To  make 
good  his  case,  he  had  first  to  show  that  space  and  time,  in 
which  all  mathematical  constructions  take  form,  are  them- 
selves a  priori  possessions  of  the  mind,  and  he  had  further- 
more to  show  that  the  synthetic  power — the  power  which 
combines  particular  data  into  systematic  knowledge — is  like- 
wise an  a  priori  possession  of  the  mind. 

Philosophers  in  Germany  before  Kant  had  looked  upon 
perception,  or  the  manifold  of  experience  which  appears  in 
time  and  space,  as  merely  an  indistinct  kind  of  apprehen- 
sion, whose  clear  and  distinct  knowledge  they  held  to  con- 
sist exclusively  in  concepts.  Kant  now  declared  perceptual 
sensibility  to  be  a  fundamental  faculty  of  the  mind  alto- 
gether distinct  from  its  conceptual  apprehension.  >  Accord- 
ing to  him,  this  original  or  pure  perceptual  sensibility  of  the 
mind  consists  in  the  empty  forms  of  space  and  time,  which 
he  calls  the  outer  and  the  inner  sense,  respectively.  Into 
these  a  priori  forms  of  our  sensibility  all  sense-derived  ma- 
terial, all  a  posteriori  or  externally  imparted  sensorial  data, 
are  received.  This  occurs  in  a  purely  receptive  manner 
without  the  active  part  of  our  nature  coming  into  play. 
The  active  part  of  our  nature  Kant  declares  to  be  intelligence 
exclusively.  In  his  view  sensibility  is  an  entirely  passive 
faculty,  all  activity  being  exclusively  a  matter  of  intellect. 

It  is  this  lodging  of  all  activity,  of  all  combining  and  ap- 


Herbert  Spencers  Synthetic  Philosophy.  89 

prehending  power  in  nature,  in  a  special  faculty  called  in- 
telligence, and  believed  to  constitute  mind  proper,  that 
inevitably  leads  to  pure  transcendental  idealism,  such  as  was 
taught  by  the  late  Thomas  Hill  Green,  and  is  taught  at 
present  in  many  of  the  universities ;  for,  if  our  knowledge 
is  in  fact  out  and  out,  and  through  and  through,  a  synthe- 
tized  compound,  it  follows  that — intelligence  being  declared 
the  only  synthetical  power  extant — our  knowledge  must  be 
oat  and  out,  and  through  and  through,  a  product  of  intelli- 
gence. And  this  means  that  thought  and  being  are  identi- 
cal, that  the  world  consists  of  nothing  but  thought. 

Kant  himself  abhorred  pure  idealism.  He  firmly  believed 
that  sense-material  is  given  to  sensibility  from  outside ;  that 
there  exists  actually  a  realm  of  things  in  themselves,  of  the 
true  nature  of  which,  however,  he  was  positive  that  we  can 
know  nothing,  and  this  because  space  and  time,  the  forms 
in  which  the  sense-given  material  appears  to  us,  and  the 
different  modes  of  combination,  the  so-called  categories, 
through  which  this  raw  material  is  elaborated  into  system- 
atic knowledge,  are  faculties  belonging  to  our  own  mental 
nature. 

Moreover,  though  Kant  believed  that  pure  mathematics 
is  constructed  a  priori  by  force  of  our  sensorially  unaided, 
mental  endowments,  he  came  to  the  final  conclusion  that 
our  combining  faculty,  in  order  to  constitute  real  knowl- 
edge, requires  imperatively  sense-given  material  to  work 
upon ;  that  constructions  formed  of  any  other  material  are 
baseless.  It  is,  however,  important  to  notice  that  Kant  be- 
lieved the  combining  categories  or  synthetical  functions  of 
the  intellect  to  inhere  in  an  intelligible  Ego,  belonging  to  a 
supernatural  sphere  of  existence.  In  spite  of  his  complete 
overthrow  of  the  old  metaphysical  idols  by  force  of  his 
theoretical  speculations,  Kant  had  in  reserve  a  loop-hole 
through  which  he  was  convinced  he  could  more  effectively 
than  ever  establish  connection  with  the  intelligible  world, 
the  real  existence  of  which  he  had  never  doubted.  God  and 
the  immortal  soul  of  man,  as  intelligible  or  supernatural 
existences,  were  to  him  primordial  verities,  attested  beyond 
contention  by  the  moral  law,  in  obedience  to  which  our  own 
intelligible  nature  has  power  to  determine  the  course  of 
nature  by  means  of  free  volitional  causation. 

Leibnitz,  having  become  acquainted  with  Locke's  sensa- 
tionalism, modified  considerably  his  view  of  innate  ideas. 
He  changed,  however,  the  motto  of  the  sensation  philosophy 


90  Herbert  Spencer's  Synthetic  Philosophy. 

by  adding  a  clause  to  it,  which  made  it  read :  Nihil  est  in  in- 
tellectu  quod  non  fuerit  in  sensu,  nisi  ipse  intellectus. 
Thus  changed,  it  became  the  motto  of  Kant's  transcend- 
ental idealism,  and  this  view  of  innate  faculties,  instead  of 
innate  ideas,  distinguishes  the  Kantian  view,  on  the  one 
hand,  from  the  old  Leibnitz-Wolffian  philosophy  that  rested 
entirely  on  innate  ideas,  and  on  the  other  hand  from  Hume's 
sensorial  experientialism,  which  denies  the  existence  of  any 
sort  of  innate  possession,  whether  in  the  form  of  ready-made 
ideas  or  of  mere  potential  faculties.  Kant  undertakes  to 
show  that  the  mind  brings  with  it  certain  elements  of  a 
priori  knowledge  in  which  no  empirical  influence,  personal 
or  ancestral,  is  traceable.  "  Experience,"  he  says,  "  consists 
of  intuitions  which  are  entirely  the  work  of  the  understand- 
ing." "  Experience  consists  in  the  synthetical  connections 
of  phenomena  (perceptions')  in  consciousness,  so  far  as 
the  connection  is  necessary  (Prolegomena  1,  sec.  22,  23). 
"  The  reader  had  probably  been  long  accustomed  to  consider 
experience  a  mere  empirical  synthesis  of  perception,  and 
hence  not  to  reflect  that  it  goes  much  further  than  these  ex- 
tend, as  it  gives  empirical  judgments  universal  validity,  and 
for  that  presupposes  pure  unity  of  the  understanding  which 
precedes  a  priori"  (ibid.,  sec.  26,  Mahaffy's  translation). 
"  It  is  the  matter  of  all  phenomena  that  is  given  to  us  a 
posteriori;  the  form  must  be  ready  a  priori  for  them  in  the 
mind." 

"  Before  objects  are  given  to  me,  that  is  a  priori,  I  must 
presuppose  in  myself  laws  of  the  understanding  which  are 
expressed  in  conceptions  a  priori.  To  these  conceptions  all 
objects  of  experience  must  necessarily  conform "  (Preface 
to  second  edition  of  Kritik).  We  are  affected  by  objects, 
he  argued,  only  by  intuition,  which  is  always  sensuous. 
The  faculty  of  thinking  the  object  of  sensuous  intuition  is 
the  understanding.  "  Understanding  can  not  intuit,  the 
sensibility  can  not  think.  In  no  other  way  than  from  the 
united  operation  of  both  can  knowledge  arise." 

Thus  Kant  maintains  that  before  sensuous  impressions 
can  be  changed  into  experience  they  must  be  molded  by 
the  mutual  forms  of  sensible  intuition  and  logical  concep- 
tion. It  is  universally  admitted  among  thinkers  that  Kant 
tried  to  hold  positions  that  are  contradictory ;  but  on  this 
point  I  can  not  dwell  here. 

The  post-Kantian  philosophers  aimed  to  overcome  the 
new  dualism  implied  by  Kant's  contention  that  not  only 


Herbert  Spencers  Synthetic  Philosophy.  91 

sensations  as  such,  but  also  space  and  time,  the  very  media 
in  which  they  appeared,  and  their  whole  synthesis  in  con- 
sciousness, are  products  of  the  feeling  and  thinking  indi- 
vidual, and  by  his  insisting  on  the  existence  of  an  outside 
realm  of  things-in-themselves  affecting  the  individual's  sen- 
sibility. Fichte  tried  to  prove  the  synthetical  power  of  the 
individual  to  create  the  objective  world  ;  Hegel,  by  identi- 
fying thought  with  being,  and  subjective  thought  with  uni- 
versal thought  (transcendental^  idealism)  ;  Schelling,  by 
making  the  subjective  and  objective  both  inhere  in  one  and 
the  same  all-comprising  hyper-subjective  and  hyper-object- 
ive substance  or  subject-object  (transcendental  realism). 
Fichte,  Hegel,  Schelling,  Schopenhauer,  all  founded  their 
systems  on  Kant's  a  priori  elements  in  knowledge.  The 
main  line  of  descent  from  Hume  in  England  was  repre- 
sented by  Hartley,  James  Mill,  and  John  Stuart  Mill ;  and 
none  of  them  were  able  to  reconcile  with  their  experiential 
philosophy  the  fact  of  a  priori  forms  of  intuition  on  which 
Kant  had  rightly  insisted. 

It  remained  for  Herbert  Spencer  to  apply  the  principle 
of  evolution  to  mind  and  to  show  that  Kant's  "  forms  of 
thought,"  although  a  priori  in  the  individual,  are  experi- 
ential in  the  race — in  other  words,  were  acquired  in  the 
evolutionary  process.  Long  before  Spencer,  instincts  were 
regarded  as  acquired  mental  habitudes  that  had  become 
organically  fixed.  Conscious  experience  and  conscious 
memory  of  it  were  thus  held  to  pass,  by  means  of  organic 
fixation  and  subsequent  transmission  of  the  modified  struct- 
ure, into  organized  experience  and  memory.  This  concep- 
tion forms  the  nucleus  of  Spencer's  mental  philosophy. 
Thus  Herbert  Spencer, "  our  great  philosopher  " — as  Darwin 
called  him — in  his  Principles  of  Psychology,  published  be- 
fore Darwin's  Origin  of  Species  had  appeared,  assuming  the 
truth  of  organic  evolution,  endeavored  to  show  how  man's 
mental  constitution  was  acquired.  Spencer,  recognizing  the 
existence  of  the  subjective  forms,  with  a  grasp  of  thought 
and  philosophic  insight  never  surpassed,  shows  that  while 
in  the  individual  they  are  a  priori,  in  the  race  they  are  ex- 
periential, since  they  are  constant,  universal  experiences  or- 
ganized as  tendencies  and  transmitted,  like  any  of  the  phys- 
ical organs,  as  a  heritage  ;  that  thus  such  a  priori  forms  as 
those  of  space,  time,  causality,  etc.,  must  have  had  their 
origin  in  experience.  Says  Dr.  Carpenter :  "  No  physiolo- 
gist can  deem  it  improbable  that  the  intuitions  which  we 


92  Herbert  Spencer's  Synthetic  Philosophy. 

recognize  in  our  mental  constitution  have  been  acquired  by 
a  process  of  gradual  development  in  the  race  corresponding 
to  that  which  we  trace  by  observation  in  the  individual.  .  .  . 
The  doctrine  that  the  intellectual  and  moral  intuitions  of 
any  one  generation  are  the  embodiment  in  its  mental  con- 
stitution of  the  experience  of  the  race  was  first  explicitly 
put  forth  by  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer,  in  whose  philosophical 
treatises  it  will  be  found  most  ably  developed. 

Lewes  remarks :  "  Such  is  one  of  the  many  profound  con- 
ceptions with  which  this  great  thinker  has  enriched  philoso- 
phy, and  it  ought  to  have  finally  closed  the  debate  between 
the  a  priori  and  the  experiential  schools,  in  so  far  as  both 
admit  a  common  ground  of  biological  interpretation,  though, 
of  course,  it  leaves  the  metempirical  hypothesis  untouched." 

Spencer  saw  that  this  conception  affords  a  solution  of  the 
problems  of  sensorial  experience  and  innate  faculties,  and  is 
a  compromise  between  Locke's  and  Kant's  school  of  thought ; 
between  the  sensation  philosophy  and  transcendental  ideal- 
ism. With  Hume,  and  against  Kant,  this  view  maintains 
that  all  knowledge  is  derived  from  sensorial  experience. 
But  with  Kant,  and  against  Hume,  it  asserts  that  we  are, 
nevertheless,  born  with  predisposed  faculties  of  thought, 
which  necessarily  constitute  a  preformed  recipient  and 
norm  for  all  new  experience. 

As  regards  the  inseparable  bond  of  connection  between 
experiential  particulars,  it  holds  that  it  is,  indeed,  estab- 
lished through  habit,  but  by  means  of  generical  inherit- 
ance, and  not  merely  during  individual  life ;  that  it  is,  how- 
ever, certainly  not  established  through  the  functional  play 
of  faculties  inherent  in  mind  prior  to  all  experience,  indi- 
vidual or  ancestral. 

Hume  ignored  completely  the  existence  of  anything  be- 
yond consciousness.  He  does  not  assume  powers  outside  of 
us  awakening  our  sensations.  He  takes  account  of  nothing 
but  vivid  and  faint  ideas  and  their  combinations.  Spencer, 
on  the  contrary,  assumes  with  Kant  the  existence  of  a  realm 
external  to  us  that  has  power  to  affect  our  sensibility.  But, 
unlike  Kant,  who  allows  these  affections  to  fall  chaotically 
into  empty  space  and  time,  and  to  receive  all  their  signifi- 
cance solely  from  the  combining,  systematizing,  and  appre- 
hending power  of  the  intellect,  Spencer  teaches  that  the  or- 
der found  obtaining  among  conscious  states  has  been  estab- 
lished by  vital  and  organic  adjustment  to  a  corresponding 
order  obtaining  among  the  forces  that  constitute  existence 


Herbert  Spencer's  Synthetic  Philosophy.  93 

outside  of  consciousness.  Life,  with  all  its  mental  as  well 
as  vital  manifestations,  consists  with  him  in  the  adjustment 
of  internal  or  subjective  relations  to  external  or  objective 
relations. 

The  psychological  fact  is  that  the  forms  are  connate, 
therefore  a  priori;  the  psychogenetical  fact  is  that  the 
forms  are  products  of  ancestral  experience,  and  therefore 
a  posteriori.  Locke  was  right  in  claiming  that  all  knowl- 
edge is  ultimately  derived  from  experience,  from  intercourse 
between  organism  and  its  medium.  Kant  was  right  in  rec- 
ognizing the  fact  that  there  are  definite  tendencies  or  pre- 
dispositions in  the  individual  at  birth.  Locke  was  wrong  in 
denying  that  there  is  any  element  in  mind  a  priori  to  the 
individual.  Kant  was  wrong  in  ignoring  the  results  in  the 
individual  mind  of  ancestral  experiences. 

Says  Mr.  John  Fiske :  "  Though  Kant  was  one  of  the 
chief  pioneers  of  the  doctrine  of  evolution,  having  been 
the  first  to  propose  and  to  elaborate  in  detail  the  theory  of 
the  nebular  origin  of  planetary  systems,  yet  the  conception 
of  a  continuous  development  of  life  in  all  its  modes,  physi- 
cal and  psychical,  was  not  sufScientlv  advanced  in  Kant's 
day  to  be  adopted  into  philosophy,  ifence,  in  his  treatment 
of  mind,  as  regards  both  intelligence  and  emotion,  Kant 
took  what  may  be  called  a  statical  view  of  the  subject ;  and 
finding  in  the  adult,  civilized  mind,  upon  the  study  of  which 
his  systems  of  psychology  and  ethics  were  founded,  a  num- 
ber of  organized  moral  intuitions  and  an  organized  moral 
sense,  which  urges  men  to  seek  the  right  and  shun  the  wrong, 
irrespective  of  utilitarian  considerations  of  pleasure  and  pain, 
he  proceeded  to  deal  with  these  moral  intuitions  and  this 
moral  sense  as  if  they  were  ultimate  facts,  incapable  of  be- 
ing analyzed  into  simpler  emotional  elements.  ...  So  long 
as  the  subject  is  contemplated  from  a  statical  point  of  view, 
so  long  as  individual  experience  is  studied  without  reference 
to  ancestral  experience,  the  follower  of  Kant  can  always 
hold  his  ground  against  the  followers  of  Locke  in  ethics  as 
well  as  in  psychology.  When  the  Kantian  asserts  that  the 
intuitions  of  right  and  wrong,  as  well  as  the  intuitions 
of  time  and  space,  are  independent  of  experience,  he  occu- 
pies a  position  which  is  impregnable  so  long  as  the  organi- 
zation of  experiences  through  successive  generations  is  left 
out  of  the  discussion.  .  .  .  Admitting  the  truth  of  the 
Kantian  position  that  there  exists  in  us  a  moral  sense  for 
analyzing  which  our  individual  experience  does  not  afford 


94  Herbert  Spencer's  Synthetic  Philosophy. 

the  requisite  data,  and  which  must  therefore  be  regarded  as 
ultimate  for  each  individual,  it  is,  nevertheless,  open  to  us 
to  inquire  into  the  emotional  antecedents  of  this  organized 
moral  sense  as  indicated  in  ancestral  types  of  physical  life. 
The  inquiry  will  result  in  the  conviction  that  the  moral 
sense  is  not  ultimate,  but  derivative,  and  that  it  has  been 
built  up  out  of  slowly  organized  experiences  of  pleasures 
and  pains." 

Says  Dr.  Edmund  Montgomery,  learned  in  all  the  schools 
of  philosophic  thought :  "  Philosophy,  after  twenty-four 
centuries  of  most  diversified  trials,  had  failed  to  discover 
the  ways  of  knowledge.  In  no  manner  could  it  be  ade- 
quately extracted  from  reason,  and  just  as  little  could  it  be 
fully  derived  from  the  senses.  Nor  had  any  compromise  at 
all  succeeded.  Nativism  and  empiricism  remained  funda- 
mentally irreconcilable.  Suddenly,  however,  light  began  to 
pierce  the  hitherto  immovable  darkness.  It  was  Mr.  Her- 
bert Spencer  who  caught  one  of  those  rare  revealing  glimpses 
that  initiate  a  new  epoch  in  the  history  of  thought.  He 
saw  that  the  evolution  hypothesis  furnishes  a  solution  of 
the  controversy  between  the  disciples  of  Locke  and  Kant. 
To  us  younger  thinkers,  into  whose  serious  meditations 
Darwinism  entered  from  the  beginning  as  a  potent  solvent 
of  many  an  ancient  mystery,  this  reconciliation  of  trans- 
cendentalism and  experientialism  may  have  consistently 
presented  itself  as  an  evident  corollary  from  the  laws  of 
heredity.  But  what  an  achievement  for  a  solitary  thinker, 
aided  by  no  other  light  than  the  penetration  of  his  own 
genius,  before  Darwinism  was  current,  to  discover  this 
deeply  hidden  secret  of  nature,  which  with  one  stroke  dis- 
closed the  true  relation  of  innate  and  acquired  faculties,  an 
enigma  over  which  so  many  generations  of  philosophers  had 
pondered  in  vain !  " 

Du  Bois-Reymond  disputes  the  priority  of  this  foreshadow- 
ing insight.  In  his  lecture  on  The  Physiology  of  Exercise  he 
says :  "  With  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer  meeting  me  in  the  same 
thought,  which  I  believe,  however,  I  have  more  sharply 
grasped,  I  deduced  on  a  former  occasion  how,  in  such  trans- 
missibility  of  educationally  derived  aptitude,  possibly  lies 
the  reconciliation  of  the  great  antithesis  of  the  theory  of 
knowledge — of  the  empirical  and  the  innate  views." 

I  am  not  able  to  judge  as  to  the  justice  of  Du  Bois-Rey- 
mond's  claim,  but  evidently  he  had  no  clear  conception  of 
the  subject  such  as  alone  could  have  enabled  him  to  make 


Herbert  Spencer's  Synthetic  Philosophy.  95 

the  discovery  a  consistent  part  of  a  scientific  theory  or  a 
philosophical  system. 

As  regards  the  intimate  nature  of  the  ultimate  reality 
represented  in  consciousness,  Spencer,  like  Kant,  professes 
complete  ignorance.  He  holds  it  to  be  wholly  unknowable. 
Yet,  unlike  Kant,  who  derives  his  God  from  the  existence 
of  the  moral  law,  he  concludes  that  the  noumenal  power  be- 
hind phenomena,  though  unknowable,  is  an  all-efficient 
Absolute,  a  First  Cause  or  Supreme  Power,  from  which  all 
natural  phenomena  proceed,  they  being  manifestations  of 
the  same. 

Spencer  maintains,  with  Kant  substantially,  that  external 
things  are  known  to  us  only  as  states  of  consciousness,  alike 
in  their  so-called  primary  and  secondary  qualities.  What 
things  are  in  themselves  can  not  be  represented  by  feeling. 
Matter,  space,  motion,  force,  all  our  fundamental  ideas  are 
derived  from  generalizing  and  abstracting  our  experiences 
of  resistance — the  ultimate  material  of  knowledge — "  the 
primordial,  universal,  ever-present  constituent  of  conscious- 
ness." To  us,  matter  is  a  congeries  of  qualities — weight, 
resistance,  extension,  etc. ;  and  these  are  names  for  different 
ways  in  which  our  consciousness  is  affected.  If  we  were 
destitute  of  sight,  touch,  smell,  taste,  and  hearing,  these 
qualities  would  cease  to  exist,  although  the  external  reality 
which  causes  these  groups  of  sensations  would  still  exist. 
To  beings  organized  differently  from  ourselves — so  differ- 
ently that  their  mode  of  being  could  not  be  conceived  by 
us — the  objective  reality  might  give  rise  to  states  of  which 
the  word  "matter"  would  to  our  minds  convey  no  idea. 
Nevertheless,  the  fact  that  we  have  sensations  that  come  and 
go  independently  of  our  volitions  is  evidence  of  something 
that  determines  them.  The  doctrine  of  the  relativity  of 
knowledge  necessitates  the  postulation  of  an  unknowable 
existence  beyond  consciousness. 

Aerial  vibrations  communicated  to  the  acoustic  nerve 
give  rise  to  the  sensation  known  as  sound.  Without  a  nerve 
of  hearing  there  can  be  no  sound ;  for  sound  is  a  sensible 
phenomenon  and  not  something  external  to  the  hearer. 
Color  is  also  a  subjective  affection;  and  particular  colors 
depend  upon  the  particular  velocities  of  the  waves  of  atten- 
uated matter  gathered  together  by  the  optical  apparatus  of 
the  eye,  and  which  impinge  upon  the  retina,  affecting  the 
optic  nerve  and  giving  rise  to  what  appear  objectively  as 
colors — blue,  green,  violet,  etc. — but  which  are  known  to  be 


96  Herbert  Spencer's  Synthetic  Philosophy. 

sensations  or  conscious  states.  In  some  persons,  vibrations 
as  different  in  velocity  as  those  which  commonly  cause  red- 
ness and  greenness  awaken  Identical  sensations.  Luminous- 
ness  is  a  sensation  produced  by  the  action  of  waves  of  ether 
upon  the  retina  and  fibers  of  the  optic  nerve.  This  sensa- 
tion may.also  be  produced  by  a  blow  or  by  electricity,  which, 
singularly  enough,  while  it  causes  luminous  phenomena 
through  the  eye,  brought  in  contact  with  other  parts 
gives  rise  to  quite  different  sensations — sounds  in  the  ear, 
taste  in  the  mouth,  ticklings  in  the  tactile  nerves.  That 
tastes  and  odors  are  not  intrinsic  in  things  with  which  we 
associate  them  is  very  evident.  The  sweetness  of  sugar 
and  the  fragrance  of  the  rose  are  sensations  in  us  caused  by 
these  objects,  the  one  appreciated  by  the  sense  of  taste,  the 
other  by  the  sense  of  smell.  Heat,  too,  is  a  sensation,  and 
is  conceivable  objectively  only  as  a  mode  of  motion. 

Another  quality  which  we  ascribe  to  things  is  hardness ; 
but  hardness  can  not  be  intelligently  conceived  except  as  a 
feeling.  When  we  say  that  a  stone  is  hard  we  mean  that, 
if  we  press  against  it,  we  experience  a  sensation  of  touch, 
a  feeling  of  resistance,  which  is  designated  by  the  word 
"  hardness."  To  illustrate  that  both  hardness  and  form  be- 
long to  the  groups  of  our  conscious  states  which  we  call 
sensations  of  sight  and  touch  Huxley  observes :  "  If  the  sur- 
face of  the  cornea  were  cylindrical  we  should  have  a  very 
different  notion  of  a  round  body  from  that  which  we  possess 
now  ;  and  if  the  strength  of  the  fabric  and  the  force  of  the 
muscles  of  the  body  were  increased  a  hundredfold,  our  mar- 
ble would  seem  to  be  as  soft  as  a  pellet  of  bread  crumbs." 
What  we  call  impenetrability  is  the  consciousness  of  exten- 
sion and  the  consciousness  of  resistance  constantly  accom- 
panying one  another.  What  we  call  extension  is  a  con- 
sciousness of  relation  between  two  or  more  coexistent  states 
produced  through  the  sense  of  sight  or  the  sense  of  touch. 
Even  the  conception  of  vibrations  among  particles  of  mat- 
ter, mentioned  above  as  objective  factors  in  the  production 
of  ^  sound  and  color,  is  but  an  inference  from  states  of  con- 
sciousness caused  in  us  by  vibrations  which  have  been  ap- 
preciated by  the  optic  or  tactile  nerves  ;  in  other  words,  by 
subjective  experiences  produced  in  us  by  some  unknown 
cause. 

•  Thus,  what  are  popularly  believed  to  be  qualities  and 
states  of  matter — sound,  color,  odor,  taste,  hardness,  exten- 
sion, and  motion — are  names  for  different  ways  in  which 


Herbert  Spencer's  Synthetic  Philosophy.  97 

our  consciousness  is  affected;  and,  were  we  destitute  of 
hearing,  sight,  smell,  taste,  and  touch,  the  supposed  quali- 
ties of  matter  would  not,  so  far  as  we  can  know  or  conceive, 
have  any  existence  whatever,  for  by  psychological  analysis 
they  are  reducible  to  states  of  consciousness. 

As  to  space  and  time,  whether  we  regard  them  with  Kant 
as  forms  of  sensibility  belonging  to  the  subject  and  not  to 
the  object,  or  adopt  Spencer's  theory  that  space  is  the  ab- 
stract of  all  relations  of  position  among  coexistent  states  of 
consciousness  or  the  blank  form  of  all  these  relations,  and 
that  time  is  the  abstract  of  all  relations  of  position  among 
successive  states  of  consciousness  or  the  blank  form  in  which 
they  are  presented  and  represented,  and  that  both  classes  of 
relations  are  predetermined  in  the  individual,  so  far  as  the 
inherited  organization  is  developed,  when  it  conies  into 
activity,  while  both  have  been  developed  in  the  race  and  are 
resolvable  into  relations,  coexistent  and  sequent,  between  sub- 
ject and  object  as  disclosed  by  the  act  of  touch — whichever 
of  these  theories  Ave  adopt  or  whatever  theory  be  affirmed, 
still  we  know  space  and  time  only  as  subjective  forms,  not 
as  external  realities.  Both  space  relations  and  time  rela- 
tions vary  with  structural  organization,  position,  vital  activ- 
ity, mental  development,  and  condition. 

How  great  in  childhood  seemed  the  height  and  mass  of 
buildings  which  now  seem  small  or  of  but  moderate  size ! 
How  long  the  days  seemed  when  we  were  young!  How 
short  now !  How  rapidly  time  passes  in  agreeable  company, 
how  slowly  in  waiting  for  a  delayed  train !  That  there  is 
equality  or  likeness  between  our  differently  estimated 
lengths  of  distance  or  duration — but  so  many  variations  of 
subjective  relations — and  any  nexus  of  external  things  there 
is  no  reason  to  believe. 

Inability  to  banish  from  the  mind  the  idea  of  space  illus- 
trates Spencer's  prime  test  of  truth — viz.,  the  inconceiva- 
bility of  the  negation  of  a  proposition.  "  If  space  b.e  an 
universal  form  of  the  non-ego,  it  must  produce  some  corre- 
sponding universal  form  of  the  ego — a  form  which,  as  being 
the  constant  element  of  all  impressions  presented  in  experi- 
ence, and  therefore  of  all  impressions  represented  in  thought, 
is  independent  of  every  particular  impression ;  and  conse- 
quently remains  when  every  particular  impression  is  as  far 
as  possible  banished."  Space  intuitions  are  "  the  fixed  func- 
tions of  fixed  structures  that  have  become  molded  into  corre- 
spondence with  fixed  outer  relations  "  pre-established  so  far 


98  Herbert  Spencer's  Synthetic  Philosophy. 

as  the  inherited  organization  is  developed  at  the  time  it 
comes  into  activity.  Thus  the  consciousness  of  space  is 
reached  through  a  process  of  evolution. 

But  does  not  the  mind  possess  a  synthetic  power  by  which 
it  can  put  together  the  materials  furnished  by  the  senses, 
and  thus  enable  us  to  realize  and  understand  the  objective 
world  as  it  actually  exists?  Is  there  not  in  the  mind  a 
faculty  by  which  we  can  discover  relations  as  they  are  be- 
yond consciousness  ?  If  we  do  not  know  the  nature  of  nou- 
menal  existence,  we  can  not  know  anything  about  its  rela- 
tions. Kant  dwelt  upon  this  subject  for  years ;  and,  although 
he  believed  in  an  existence  transcending  sense  and  under- 
standing, the  conclusion  of  his  years  of  laborious  thought 
was  that  we  can  only  put  together  the  materials  furnished 
by  the  senses,  and  that  we  can  know  nothing  of  the  world 
as  it  exists,  unmodified  by  and  independent  of  conscious- 
ness. To  the  same  conclusion,  after  years  of  profound 
thought,  came  Herbert  Spencer. 

Mr.  Spencer  holds  that  things  in  themselves  are  not  per- 
ceived, yet  that  they  correspond  with  perceptions,  and  are 
known  symbolically  only ;  that  "  there  exist  beyond  con- 
sciousness conditions  of  objective  manifestation  which  are 
symbolized  by  relations  as  we  conceive  them."  The  object- 
ive existences  and  conditions  which  remain  as  the  final 
necessity  of  thought  are  the  correlatives  of  our  feelings  and 
the  relations  between  them.  There  is  no  valid  reason  for  the 
belief  that  the  objective  existence  is  what  it  appears  to  be, 
nor  for  the  belief  that  the  connections  among  its  modes  are 
what  they  seem  in  consciousness.  There  is  cpngruity,  but  not 
resemblance,  between  the  external  and  the  internal  order. 

"  Inner  thoughts,"  says  Spencer,  "  answer  to  outer  things 
in  such  wise  that  cohesions  in  the  one  correspond  to  persist- 
ences in  the  other,"  but  this  correspondence  is  only  sym- 
bolical. Such,  briefly  stated,  is  the  view  which,  in  distinc- 
tion to  crude  realism  and  idealism,  is  called  Transfigured 
Kealism.  "  It  recognizes,"  to  quote  again  from  the  great 
thinker,  "an  external,  independent  existence  which  is  the 
cause  of  changes  in  consciousness,  while  the  effects  it  works 
in  consciousness  constitute  the  perception  of  it ;  and  the 
inference  is  that  the  knowledge  constituted  by  these  effects 
can  not  be  a  knowledge  of  that  which  causes  them,  but  can 
only  imply  its  existence.  May  it  not  be  said  that  in  thus  in- 
terpreting itself  subjective  existence  makes  definite  that  dif- 
ferentiation from  objective  existence  which  has  been  going 


Herbert  Spencer's  Synthetic  Philosophy.  99 

on  from  the  beginning  of  evolution  ?  "  (Spencer's  Principles 
of  Psychology,  vol.  ii,  p.  555.) 

What  may  be  called,  with  propriety,  Relatiouism,  the  doc- 
trine that  we  know  objective  relations  as  they  actually  exist, 
belongs  to  crude  realism,  and  it  has  no  philosophical  basis 
whatever.  The  theory  that  the  intellect  alone  constitutes 
relations,  that  we  intellectually  reconstitute  and  therefore 
understand  the  relations  making  up  the  noumenal  constitu- 
tion of  things,  is  an  old  conception,  sometimes  put  forward 
in  these  later  days  as  original,  in  a  phraseology  which  at 
first  makes  difficult  the  immediate  discovery  of  its  identity 
with  a  system  that  has  been  weighed  in  the  balance  aud 
found  wanting.  One  of  these  relational  philosophers  main- 
tains that  space  relations  belong  to  the  noumenal  world. 
But  these  are  relations  constituted  by  the  facts  of  sensibility, 
and  the  theorist  referred  to  does  not  allow  sensibility  to 
contribute  to  knowledge.  He  can  not,  therefore,  consist- 
ently maintain  that  space  relations  are  knowingly  apper- 
ceived  by  us. 

Although  there  seems  to  be  almost  a  complete  unanimity 
among  the  great  thinkers  of  the  world  that  we  can  form  no 
conception  of  the  objective  world  apart  from  the  conditions 
imposed  upon  it  by  our  intelligence,  and  that  changes  of 
consciousness  are  the  materials  out  of  which  our  knowledge 
is  entirely  built,  let  no  one  hastily  conclude  that  there  is. 
anything  in  this  position  inimical  to,  or  inconsistent  with, 
what  is  called  "  objective  science."  Prof.  Huxley,  one  of 
the  greatest  of  living  scientists  and  a  philosophic  thinker 
of  no  mean  ability,  pursuing  the  "  scientific  method  "  with 
which  he  is  supposed  to  be  well  acquainted,  comes  to  the 
conclusion  "  that  all  the  phenomena  are,  in  their  ultimate 
analysis,  known  to  us  only  as  facts  of  consciousness." 

George  Henry  Lewes,  eminent  as  a  physiologist  and  psy- 
chologist, as  well  as  a  remarkably  acute  analytical  thinker, 
declares,  in  his  Problems  of  Life  and  Mind :  w  Whether  we 
affirm  the  objective  existence  of  something  distinct  from  the 
affections  of  consciousness  or  affirm  that  this  object  is  simply 
a  reflection  from  consciousness,  in  either  case  we  declare 
that  the  objective  world  is  to  each  man  the  sum  of  his  vis- 
ionary experience — an  existence  bounded  on  all  sides  by 
what  he  feels  and  thinks — a  form  shaped  by  the  reaction  of 
his  organism.  The  world  is  the  sum  total  of  phenomena, 
and  phenomena  are  affections  of  consciousness  with  exter- 
nal signs  "  (vol.  i,  p.  183). 


100          Herbert  Spencer's  Synthetic  Philosophy. 

Dr.  Maudsley,  the  distinguished  physiologist,  who  is  no 
more  than  Spencer  or  Lewes  a  subjectivist  or  idealist — who, 
indeed,  is  commonly  regarded  as  a  materialist — says :  "After 
all,  the  world  which  we  apprehend  when  we  are  awake  may 
have  as  little  resemblance  or  relation  to  the  external  world, 
of  which  we  can  have  no  manner  of  apprehension  through 
our  senses,  as  the  dream-world  has  to  the  world  with  which 
our  senses  make  us  acquainted  ;  nay,  perhaps  less,  since 
there  is  some  resemblance  in  the  latter  case,  and  there  may 
be  none  whatever  in  the  former.  .  .  .  The  external  world 
as  it  is  in  itself  may  not  be  in  the  least  what  we  conceive 
it  through  our  forms  of  perception  and  modes  of  thought. 
No  prior  experience  of  it  has  ever  been  so  much  as  possible ; 
and  therefore  the  analogy  of  the  dreamer  is  altogether  de- 
fective in  that  respect "  (Body  and  Will,  p.  51). 

Now  Mr.  Spencer's  conclusions  from  relativity  are  in  or- 
der. He  says :  "  If,  after  finding  that  the  same  tepid  water 
may  feel  warm  to  one  hand  and  cold  to  another,  it  is  in- 
ferred that  warmth  is  relative  to  our  nature  and  our  own 
state,  the  inference  is  valid,  only  supposing  the  activity  to 
which  these  different  sensations  are  referred  is  an  activity 
out  of  ourselves,  which  has  not  been  modified  by  our  own 
activities. 

"  When  we  are  taught  that  a  piece  of  matter,  regarded  by 
us  as  existing  externally,  can  not  be  really  known,  but  that 
we  can  know  only  certain  impressions  produced  on  us,  we 
are  yet,  by  the  relativity  of  our  thought,  compelled  to  think 
of  a  positive  cause.  The  notion  of  a  real  existence  which 
generated  these  impressions  becomes  nascent.  The  momen- 
tum of  thought  inevitably  carries  us  beyond  conditioned 
existence  to  unconditioned  existence  ;  and  this  ever  persists 
in  us  as  the  body  of  a  thought  to  which  we  can  give  no 
shape.  ...  At  the  same  time  that,  by  the  laws  of  thought, 
we  are  rigorously  prevented  from  forming  a  conception  of 
absolute  existence,  we  are,  by  the  laws  of  thought,  prevent- 
ed from  ridding  ourselves  of  the  consciousness  of  absolute 
existence,  this  unconsciousness  being,  as  we  see,  the  obverse 
of  absolute  existence  "  (First  Principles,  p.  396). 

The  absolute  existence,  then,  can  be  known  only  as  it  is 
manifested  in  consciousness,  only  as  it  is  colored  and  modi- 
fied, so  to  speak,  by  the  conditions  of  the  organism.  It  can 
not  be  identified  with  what  we  call  matter,  for  that  we  know 
only  as  a  series  of  phenomenal  manifestations,  or,  psycho- 
logically speaking,  only  as  the  coexistent  states  of  conscious- 


Herbert  Spencer's  Synthetic  Philosophy.          101 

ness,  which  we  call  resistance,  extension,  color,  sound,  or 
odor.  It  can  not  be  identified  with  mind,  for  that  we  know 
only  as  the  series  of  our  own  states  of  consciousness. 

Says  Spencer :  "  If  I  am  asked  to  frame  a  notion  of  mind, 
divested  of  all  those  structural  traits  under  which  alone  I 
am  conscious  of  mind  in  myself,  I  can  not  do  it.  .  .  .  If, 
then,  I  have  to  conceive  evolution  as  caused  by  an  '  originat- 
ing mind,'  I  must  conceive  this  mind  as  having  attributes 
akin  to  those  of  the  only  mind  I  know,  and  without  which 
I  can  not  conceive  mind  at  all.  ...  I  can  not  think  of  a 
single  series  of  states  of  consciousness  as  causing  even  the 
relatively  small  groups  of  action  going  on  over  the  earth's 
surface.  .  .  .  How,  then,  is  it  possible  for  me  to  conceive 
an  '  original  mind,'  which  I  must  represent  to  myself  as  a 
single  series  of  states  of  consciousness,  working  the  infinitely 
multiplied  sets  of  changes  simultaneously  going  on  in  worlds 
too  numerous  to  count,  dispersed  throughout  a  space  that 
baffles  imagination?  If  to  account  for  this  infinitude  of 
changes  everywhere  going  on  *  mind '  must  be  conceived  as 
there  under  the  guise  of  simple  dynamics,  then  the  reply  is 
that,  to  be  so  conceived,  mind  must  be  divested  of  all  attri- 
butes by  which  it  is  distinguished,  and  that  when  thus 
divested  of  its  distinguishing  attributes  the  conception  dis- 
appears, the  word  '  mind '  stands  for  a  blank." 

According  to  Spencer,  force,  matter,  space,  time,  motion, 
are  but  forms  which  the  indeterminate  substance  assumes 
in  consciousness.  But  matter  and  movement  he  reduces — 
as  is  sufficiently  evident  from  the  foregoing — to  manifesta- 
tions of  force ;  and  space  and  time  are  cohesions — one  of 
coexistence,  the  other  of  succession — in  the  manifestations 
of  force.  Force  then  remains  the  primary  datum,  but  that 
we  know  only  as  states  of  consciousness — in  other  words,  as 
the  changes  in  us  produced  by  an  absolute  reality  of  which 
in  itself  we  know  nothing. 

It  may  be  well  to  illustrate  a  little  more  fully  that,  ac- 
cording to  Spencer,  we  know  matter  only  as  co-existent  states 
of  consciousness  :  "  A  whiff  of  ammonia  coming  in  contact 
with  the  eyes  produces  a  smart,  getting  into  the  nostrils 
excites  the  consciousness  we  described  as  an  intolerably 
strong  odor,  being  condensed  on  the  tongue  generates  an 
acrid  taste,  while  ammonia  applied  in  solution  to  a  tender 
part  of  the  skin  makes  it  burn,  as  we  say."  This  illustra- 
tion from  Spencer's  Principles  of  Psychology  shows  that 
one  and  the  same  external  agency  produces  m  us  different 


102          Herbert  Spencer's  Synthetic  Philosophy. 

sensations,  according  to  the  avenues  through  which  it  affects 
our  consciousness.  Which  of  these  feelings,  so  widely  dif- 
ferent, does  the  external  cause  resemble?  Probably  none 
of  them.  What  it  is,  independently  of  consciousness,  we 
never  can  know,  owing  to  limitations  imposed  by  the  very 
constitution  of  the  human  mind. 

The  effects  produced  on  our  consciousness — different  feel- 
ings— can  be  compared  and  classified ;  but  how  can  we  com- 
pare and  classify  that  of  which  nothing  can  be  known  ? 

Knowledge  consists  in  the  classification  of  experiences. 
We  observe  distinctions  existing  between  phenomena,  and 
group  together  those  that  are  similar.  Anything  newly  dis- 
covered is  known  only  when  it  can  be  classed  with  some 
other  thing  which  is  known ;  in  other  words,  only  when  the 
impressions  it  produces  can  be  recognized  as  belonging  to 
an  existing  group  of  impressions.  "  Whence  it  is  manifest 
that  a  thing  is  perfectly  known  when  it  is  in  all  respects 
like  certain  things  previously  observed ;  that  in  proportion 
to  the  number  of  respects  in  which  it  is  unlike  them  is  the 
extent  to  which  it  is  unknown ;  and  that  hence,  when  it  has 
absolutely  no  attribute  in  common  with  anything  else,  it 
must  be  absolutely  beyond  the  bounds  of  knowledge."  With- 
out distinction,  which  implies  limitation,  of  course,  knowl- 
edge would  be  impossible.  All  that  we  can  compare  and 
classify  are  phenomena,  between  which  are  distinguishable 
various  degrees  of  likeness  and  unlikeness.  These  phenom- 
ena are  effects  produced  in  us  by  that  which  is  manifested 
objectively  as  matter  and  force,  and  subjectively  as  feeling 
and  thought.  We  can  think  of  matter  only  in  terms  of 
mind,  as,  indeed,  we  can  think  of  mind  only  in  terms  of 
matter.  That  of  which  both  are  manifestations  can  not  be 
known.  "  The  antithesis  of  subject  and  object,"  says  Spen- 
cer, "  never  to  be  transcended  while  consciousness  lasts,  ren- 
ders impossible  all  knowledge  of  that  ultimate  reality  in 
which  subject  and  object  are  united." 

There  are  those  who,  after  making  use  of  the  doctrine  of 
the  relativity  of  knowledge  to  prove  that  we  know  only  our 
conscious  states,  deny  or  question  the  existence  of  any  ob- 
jective reality  that  produces  these  states.  But  relativity 
implies  object  as  well  as  subject,  and  it  would  have  no 
meaning  unless  there  were  existence,  known  only  as  it  affects 
us  and  unknown  as  pure  object.  The  statement  that  a 
house  of  a  certain  size,  form,  color,  etc.,  is  what  it  is  con- 
ceived to  be  only  in  relation  to  consciousness,  implies  that 


Herbert  Spencer's  Synthetic  Philosophy.          103 

there  is  something  beyond  consciousness  that  exists  per  sey 
and  that,  as  such,  it  is  unknown.  The  statement  that  knowl- 
edge is  relative  involves  the  statement  that  there  is  absolute 
existence — existence  that  does  not  depend  upon  our  con- 
sciousness, and  of  which  we  know  only  its  effects  upon  us. 
If,  in  asserting  the  relativity  of  knowledge,  we  do  not  postu- 
late absolute  existence,  the  relative  itself  becomes  absolute ; 
and  that  involves  a  contradiction  of  the  doctrine  of  rela- 
tivity— the  very  indisputable  doctrine  by  which  the  so-called 
qualities  of  matter  are  shown  to  be  sensible  phenomena. 

An  oyster  is  conceived  as  having  some  vague  sort  of  con- 
sciousness of  its  environment.  In  this  consciousness  man 
is  not  included.  If  we  conceive  the  oyster  as  a  creature  out 
of  whose  consciousness  we  exist,  is  it  not  a  trifle  absurd  to 
say  that  there  is  no  objective  reality ;  that  our  conception 
of  the  oyster,  instead  of  being  the  product  of  the  co-opera- 
tion of  the  mind  with  an  external  something,  is  only  one 
of  the  modifications  of  ourselves,  uncaused  by  anything  ex- 
isting objectively ;  and  that,  therefore,  the  oyster  exists  only 
in  our  own  minds?  And  other  human  beings  than  our- 
selves can  only  be  regarded  as  but  so  many  modifications  of 
our  own  consciousness.  The  truth  is  that,  while  we  know 
directly  only  our  own  conscious  states — the  material  out  of 
which  is  woven  all  thought — we  know  by  inference  other 
human  beings,  although,  of  course,  relatively  only;  and 
that  which  is  not  known  is  the  reality  which  awakens  in 
us  all  similarly  perceptive  activity. 

The  conviction  "  that  human  intelligence  is  incapable  of 
absolute  knowledge,"  says  Spencer,  "  is  one  that  has  been 
slowly  gaining  ground  as  civilization  has  advanced.  .  .  .  All 
possible  conceptions  have  been,  one  by  one,  tried  and  found 
wanting ;  and  so  the  entire  field  of  speculation  has  been 
gradually  exhausted  without  positive  result,  the  only  one 
arrived  at  being  the  negative  one  above  stated — that  the 
reality  existing  behind  all  appearances  is,  and  must  ever  be, 
unknown.  To  this  conclusion  almost  every  thinker  of  note 
has  subscribed.  'With  the  exception,'  says  Sir  William 
Hamilton,  *  of  a  few  late  absolutist  theorizers  in  Germany, 
this  is,  perhaps,  the  truth  of  all  others  most  harmoniously 
re-echoed  by  every  philosopher  of  every  school.' " 

To  Herbert  Spencer  belongs  the  great  credit  of  having 
formulated  the  principles  of  universal  evolution  and  shown 
that  what  von  Baer  demonstrated  to  be  true  in  the  develop- 
ment of  an  animal  is  true  of  worlds,  of  all  life,  of  society, 


104          Herbert  Spencer's  Synthetic  Philosophy. 

of  all  thought,  of  language,  religion,  literature,  government, 
art,  science,  philosophy,  etc. — viz.,  that  progress  is  from  a 
homogeneous,  indefinite,  incoherent  condition  to  the  hetero- 
geneous, definite,  and  coherent  condition.  The  rhythm  of 
evolution  and  dissolution,  completing  itself  during  short 
periods  in  small  aggregates,  and  in  the  vast  aggregate  dis- 
tributed through  space  completing  itself  in  periods  which 
are  immeasurable  by  human  thought,  is,  so  far  as  we  can 
see,  universal  and  eternal,  each  alternating  phase  of  the  pro- 
cess predominating,  now  in  this  region  of  space,  and  now  in 
that,  as  local  conditions  determine. 

Von  Baer,  and  doubtless  others  before  Spencer,  had 
glimpses  of  this  law  beyond  its  application  to  organic  de- 
velopment, but  it  required  the  cyelopasdiac  knowledge,  philo- 
sophic genius,  and  synthetical  powers  of  a  Spencer  to  illus- 
trate and  prove  the  law  of  universal  evolution,  as  it  re- 
quired a  Darwin  to  establish  the  principle  of  natural  selec- 
tion. Von  Baer,  as  a  writer  in  the  Encyclopaedia  Britannica 
says,  "  prepared  the  way  for  Mr  Spencer's  generalization  of 
the  law  of  organic  evolution  as  the  law  of  all  evolution." 
But  this  fact  no  more  lessens  the  credit  due  Spencer  for 
his  great  contributions  to  thought  than  the  fact  that  many 
investigators  prepared  the  way  for  Darwin's  researches  di- 
minishes the  credit  to  which  the  great  naturalist  is  fairly 
entitled. 

"A  great  method  is  always  within  the  perception  of 
many,"  says  De  Morgan,  "  before  it  is  within  the  grasp  of 
one."  Prof.  Owen,  the  paleontologist,  expressed  himself, 
in  correspondence  with  the  editor  of  the  London  Review, 
so  as  to  convey  the  impression — which  he  afterward  said 
was  not  intended — that  he  claimed  to  have  promulgated 
the  theory  of  natural  selection  before  Darwin  had  done  so. 
This  led  Darwin  to  say :  "  As  far  as  the  mere  enunciation 
of  the  principle  of  natural  selection  is  concerned,  it  is  quite 
immaterial  whether  or  not  Prof.  Owen  preceded  me,  for 
both  of  us,  as  shown  in  this  historical  sketch,  were  long  ago 
preceded  by  Dr.  Wells  and  Mr.  Mathew."  Darwin  quotes 
even  from  Aristotle's  Physical  Auscultations,  and  adds : 
"  We  here  see  the  principle  of  natural  selection  shadowed 
forth,"  etc.  Doubtless  many  had  thought  of  the  principle 
of  natural  selection,  but  they  lacked  the  knowledge  to  under- 
stand it  with  its  many  implications,  the  wonderful  powers 
of  patient  observation  and  laborious  experimental  investiga- 
tion necessary  to  the  study  of  details,  and  the  verification 


Herbert  Spencer's  Synthetic  Philosophy.          105 

of  what  was  conjectured  or  but  dimly  perceived,  as  well  as 
the  wonderful  powers  of  generalization  required  to  classify 
the  multitude  of  facts  and  bring  them  together  in  a  com- 
prehensive unity  so  as  to  make  clear  and  certain  the  princi- 
ple underlying  them.  These  qualifications  were  possessed 
in  an  eminent  degree  by  Darwin,  and  they  enabled  him  to 
prove  what  others  had  but  imagined — to  show  that  natural 
selection  was  a  great  factor  in  evolution,  and  to  put  or- 
ganic evolution  upon  an  impregnable  foundation.  But  Dar- 
win's work  would  not  have  been  possible  if  the  labors  of 
others  had  not  led  up  to  them,  and  the  acceptance  of  evo- 
lution would  have  remained  confined  to  but  a  few  if  the 
scientific  mind  had  not  been,  through  the  work  of  others, 
prepared  for  the  change.  Buffon,  Lamarck,  Geoffroy  Saint- 
Hilaire,  Goethe,  Erasmus  Darwin,  the  author  of  the  Ves- 
tiges, with  others,  are  entitled  to  the  credit  of  having  helped 
to  prepare  the  way  for  Darwin's  work  and  for  the  adoption, 
with  comparatively  little  opposition,  of  the  doctrine  of  de- 
velopment in  the  place  of  belief  in  special  creations.  Yet 
Darwin's  name  will  be  forever  identified  with  natural  selec- 
tion. 

And  as  Prof.  Youmans  says :  "  The  same  ethical  canons 
of  research  .  .  .  which  gave  to  Copernicus  the  glory  of  the 
heliocentric  astronomy,  to  Newton  that  of  the  law  of  gravi- 
tation, to  Harvey  that  of  the  circulation  of  the  blood,  to 
Priestley  that  of  the  discovery  of  oxygen,  and  to  Darwin  that 
of  natural  selection,  will  also  give  to  Herbert  Spencer  the 
honor  of  having  first  elucidated  and  established  the  law  of 
universal  evolution." 

Prof.  Huxley,  in  his  Survey  of  Fifty  Years  of  Progress, 
says :  "  Evolution  as  a  philosophical  doctrine  applicable  to 
all  phenomena,  whether  physical  or  mental,  whether  mani- 
fested by  material  atoms  or  by  men  in  society,  has  been 
dealt  with  systematically  in  the  Synthetic  Philosophy  ^  of 
Mr.  Herbert  Spencer.  Comment  on  that  great  undertaking 
would  not  be  in  place  here.  I  mention  it  because,  so  far  as 
I  know,  it  is  the  first  attempt  to  deal  on  scientific  princi- 
ples with  modern  scientific  facts  and  speculations.  For 
the  Philosophie  Positive  of  M.  Comte,  with  which  Mr. 
Spencer's  system  of  philosophy  is  sometimes  compared,  al- 
though it  professes  a  similar  object,  is  unfortunately  per- 
meated by  a  thoroughly  unscientific  spirit,  and  its  author  had 
no  adequate  acquaintance  with  the  physical  science  even  of 
his  own  time." 


106          Herbert  Spencer's  Synthetic  Philosophy. 

I  will  now  endeavor  to  give  a  brief  synopsis  of  Mr.  Spen- 
per's  doctrine  of  evolution. 

1.  Under  the  appearances  which  the  universe  presents  to 
our  senses,  there  persists,  unchanging  in  quantity  but  ever 
changing  in  form  and  ever  transcending  human  knowledge 
and  conception,  an  unknown  and  unknowable  power  or  real- 
ity, which  we  are  obliged  to  recognize  as  without  limit  in 
space  and  without  beginning  or  end  in  time. 

Matter,  motion,  space,  and  time  are  forms  which  the  un- 
knowable reality  assumes  in  consciousness.  Matter  and 
motion  are  manifestations  of  force,  and  space  and  time  are 
cohesions — one  of  coexistence,  the  other  of  succession — in 
the  manifestation  of  force.  Force,  then,  is  the  primary  da- 
tum, but  that  we  only  know  as  states  of  consciousness ;  in 
other  words,  as  the  changes  in  us  produced  by  an  unknow- 
able reality,  of  which  our  conceptions  of  matter  and  mo- 
tion are  symbols.  That  which  appears  to  be,  outside  of  con- 
sciousness, as  matter  and  force,  is  the  same  as  that  which 
appears  in  consciousness  as  thought  and  feeling.  In  Spen- 
cer's own  language :  "A  power  of  which  the  nature  re- 
mains forever  inconceivable,  and  to  which  no  limit  in  time 
and  space  can  be  imagined,  works  in  us  certain  effects. 
These  effects  have  certain  likenesses  of  kind,  the  most  gen- 
eral of  which  we  class  under  the  names  of  matter  and 
force,  and  between  these  effects  there  are  likenesses  of  kind, 
the  most  constant  of  which  we  class  as  laws  of  the  highest 
certainty." 

2.  The  field  of  science  and  philosophy  is  in  the  phenome- 
nal world.  It  is  the  function  of  philosophy  to  give  to  knowl- 
edge a  unity  that  shall  comprehend  the  fundamental  truths 
of  all  the  sciences,  as  the  general  definitions  and  proposi- 
tions of  each  include  all  the  diversified  phenomena  of  its 
recognized  province.    The  sciences  deal  with  different  orders 
of  phenomena,  and  their  formulae  are  those  which  express 
the  changes  and  relations  of  these  orders  respectively.     Phi- 
losophy is  a  synthesis  of  all  these  sciences  into  a  universal 
system. 

3.  Force  is  persistent,  and  is  revealed  to  us  under  the  two 
opposite  modes  of  attraction  and  expansion — in  the  ceaseless 
redistribution  of  matter  and  motion,  which  extends  through- 
out the  universe,  involving,  on  the  one  hand,  the  integra- 
tion of  matter  and  the  dissipation  of  motion,  and  on  the 
other  a  disintegration  of  matter  and  absorption  of  motion. 

4.  Where  the  integration  of  matter  and  the  dissipation 


Herbert  Spencer's  Synthetic  Philosophy.          107 

of  motion  predominate,  there  is  evolution.  Where  there  is 
a  predominant  disintegration  of  matter  and  absorption  of 
motion,  there  is  dissolution.  In  that  portion  of  the  universe 
observable  by  us  attraction  predominates  now,  as  seen  in  the 
integration  of  matter  and  the  evolution  of  forms.  In  other 
regions  expansion  may  exceed  attraction,  dissolution  may 
predominate  over  evolution.  In  ages  inconceivably  remote, 
the  elements  of  our  system,  now  undergoing  evolution,  were 
doubtless  subject  to  the  opposite  process.  Every  condition 
grows  out  of  pre-existent  conditions. 

5.  Of  beginning  there  is  no  indication.    The  evolution  of 
a  world  from  the  "  chaos  "  of  star-dust  involves  a  "  begin- 
ning "  only  as  the  formation  of  a  crystal  from  the  "  chaos  " 
of  a  solution  implies  a  beginning.     There  is,  according  to 
Spencer's  philosophy,  as  little  need  of  a  "  supernatural  fac- 
tor "  to  explain  evolution  as  there  is  to  explain  the  opposite 
process,  dissolution;  and  one  is  as  little  indication  of  a 
"  beginning "  as  the  other,  except  the  word  "  beginning " 
be  applied  to  certain  rhythms  of  motion,  certain  manifesta- 
tions of  force,  certain  forms  of  matter,  which,  nevertheless, 
were  preceded  by  and  sprang  from  other  rhythms,  manifes- 
tations, and  forms,  all  due  to  and  dependent  upon  self-ex- 
istent, inscrutable  power.     As  Spencer  said,  in  reply  to  a 
critic :    "  The  affirmation  of  a  universal  evolution  is  in 
itself    the  negation  of    an  '  absolute  commencement '  of 
anything.     Construed  in  terms  of  evolution,  every  kind  of 
being  is  conceived  as  a  product  of  modifications,  wrought 
by  insensible  gradations  on  a  pre-existing  kind  of  being; 
and  this  holds  as  fully  of  the  supposed  '  commencement  of 
organic  life '  as  of  all  subsequent  development  of  organic 
life." 

6.  "When  the  formation  of  an  aggregate  proceeds  uncom- 
plicated by  secondary  processes,  as  in  the  crystallization  of 
carbon  into  a  diamond,  evolution  is  simple. 

7.  When,  in  the  process  of  evolution,  there  are  secondary 
rearrangements  of  matter,  and  sufficient  retained  motion  to 
admit  a  redistribution  among  the  parts  of  the  body — as,  for 
instance,  in  the  growth  of  an  animal — there  is  exemplified 
not  only  the  integration  of  matter  and  the  dissipation  of 
motion,  the  primary  law  of  evolution,  but  also  an  increase 
of  complexity.     When  this  is  accompanied  with  increased 
coherence,  definiteness,  and  mutual  dependence  of  parts,  and 
the  subordination  of   the  parts  to  the  movements  of  the 
whole  structure,  there  is  progress.    Thus  we  have  evolution 


108          Herbert  Spencer's  Synthetic  Philosophy. 

as  a  double  process— a  movement  toward  unity  as  well  as 
diversity. 

The  following  is  from  an  article  which  appeared  in  The 
Index  (Boston),  in  1880,  in  which  I  reviewed  at  consider- 
able length  Prof.  Van  Buren  Denslow's  essay  on  Herbert 
Spencer,  contained  in  his  work  entitled  Modern  Thinkers : 

Prof.  Denslow  says :  "  Given  space,  matter,  force,  motion,  and  time 
as  the  factors,  would  all  progress  be  found  to  consist  in  evolution  of 
forms,  organisms,  motions,  and  activities  from  the  homogeneous  or 
simple  into  the  heterogeneous  f  It  must  be  conceded  that  the  array  of 
instances  in  which  this  is  true  dazzles  and  almost  bewilders  the  im- 
agination by  its  variety  and  beauty.  .  .  .  But  if  it  shall  appear  that 
each  instance  he  (Spencer)  adduces  as  an  illustration  of  differentiation 
of  the  simple  into  the  complex  also  illustrates  a  unification  of  previ- 
ously differentiated  and  diverse  elements  into  one  simple  and  homo- 
geneous entity  or  substance,  is  it  quite  clear  that  we  have  made  any 
advance  in  our  knowledge  of  the  principles  of  universal  science  f?> 
(pp.  218,  222). 

To  strengthen  his  objection,  the  author  selects  one  of  Spencer's  own 
illustrations,  furnished  by  the  differentiation  of  the  bean  seed  "  into 
vine,  leaf,  blossom,  and  ultimately  the  new  fruit,"  and  calls  attention 
to  what  he  declares  is  a  fact — that  this  process  equally  illustrates  the 
unification  of  diverse  elements  into  one  homogeneous  substance. 

That  in  the  growth  of  the  bean  plant  diverse  elements  are  united  in 
one  structure  is  very  evident ;  but  the  correctness  of  characterizing  as 
a  "  homogeneous  entity  "  a  complex  production,  in  which  several  ele- 
ments united  in  different  proportions  have  produced  all  the  variety 
afforded  by  the  root,  vine,  leal,  blossom,  and  fruit  of  a  bean  plant,  is 
by  no  means  apparent.  On  the  contrary,  a  bean  plant  is,  in  substance, 
as  well  as  in  form  and  activity,  a  very  heterogeneous  structure.  The 
chemical  differentiations  produced  in  plants  generally  by  rearrange- 
ments of  the  chemical  elements  and  by  modification  of  tissues  and 
organs  are  well  described  by  Spencer. 

"In  plants,"  he  observes,  "the  albuminous  and  amylaceous  matters 
which  form  the  substance  of  the  embryo  give  origin  here  to  a  pre- 
ponderance of  chlorophyll  and  there  to  a  preponderance  of  cellulose. 
Over  the  parts  that  are  becoming  leaf-surfaces,  certain  of  the  materials 
are  metamorphosed  into  wax.  In  this  place,  starch  passes  into  one  of 
its  isomeric  equivalents,  sugar,  and  in  that  place  into  another  of  its 
isomeric  equivalents,  gum.  By  secondary  changes,  some  of  the  cellu- 
lose is  modified  into  wood,  while  some  of  it  is  modified  into  the  allied 
substance,  which  in  large  masses  we  distinguish  as  cork.  And  the 
more  numerous  compounds  thus  gradually  arising  initiate  further  un- 
likenesses  by  mingling  in  unlike  ratios."  "(First  Principles.) 

In  the  inorganic  world  there  are  compound  substances,  like  water, 
produced  by  the  union  of  different  elements,  which  to  all  appearances 
are  homogeneous  as  to  substance  ;  but  we  must  not  expect  to  find  such 
homogeneity  in  highly  evolved  organisms  like  the  bean  plant.  And 
how  the  integration  of  a  number  of  diverse  elements  into  one  structure 
diminishes  the  weight  of  Spencer's  claims  it  is  not  easy  to  see. 
Spencer's  primary  law  of  evolution  is  not,  as  Prof.  Denslow  seems  to 


Herbert  Spencer's  Synthetic  Philosophy.          109 

think,  change  from  the  homogeneous  to  the  heterogeneous,  but  the  in- 
tegration of  matter  and  concomitant  dissipation  of  motion,  which  we 
see  exemplified  in  the  concentration  of  units  that  form  a  crystal  as 
well  as  in  the  combination  of  elements  that  compose  the  structure  of 
a  complex  organism.  And  consider  a  moment  how  the  integration  of 
matter,  the  combinations  of  several  elements  into  one  body,  gives  rise 
to  heterogeneity  and  differentiation  in  the  inorganic  as  well  as  in  the 
organic  world.  Think  of  the  different  combinations  and  transposi- 
tions of  which  the  elements  admit,  and  the  multitude  of  substances 
thus  produced.  Add  a  molecule  of  carbon  to  a  hundred  molecules  of 
iron,  and  a  peculiar  hardness  is  produced  by  the  conversion  of  the  iron 
into  steel.  Carbon  in  variously  proportioned  combinations  with  oxy- 
gen and  nitrogen  develops  the  several  properties  of  wood,  fruits, 
grain,  grasses,  tobacco,  and  opium.  Carbon  united  with  oxygen  as 
carbonic-acid  gas  combines  with  molecules  of  the  metal  calcium  in 
forming  lime-rocks  and  marbles,  the  bones  of  animals,  and  beautiful 
translucent  pearls.  A  triple  alliance  of  molecules  of  hydrogen,  oxygen, 
and  carbon  imparts  a  wonderful  diversity  of  proportion  to  a  multi- 
tude of  organic  substances,  as  wood,  vegetable  oil,  animal  flesh,  and 
fat.  Hydrogen  molecules  united  with  oxygen  are  converted  into  acids, 
and,  combined  with  nitrogen,  are  converted  into  alkaloids,  as  in  the 
formation  of  ammonia.  If  the  proportion  of  molecules  of  nitrogen 
and  oxygen  in  the  atmosphere,  composed  by  weight  of  nitrogen 
seventy-seven  and  of  oxygen  twenty-three,  be  reversed  to  oxygen 
seventy-seven  and  nitrogen  twenty-three,  nitric  acid  is  developed. 
Vinegar,  burnt  sugar,  butter,  animal  fat,  nutmeg  oil,  are  all  composed 
of  carbon,  hydrogen,  and  oxygen  in  different  proportions.  Opium  and 
quinine  contain  the  same  elements  in  different  proportions.  It  is  un- 
necessary to  multiply  illustrations  to  show  that  the  union  of  diverse 
elements  in  different  proportions  gives  us  compounds  more  or  less 
homogeneous  in  substance,  but  all  differentiated  from  one  another  as 
to  substance  as  well  as  in  form  and  motion.  The  number  of  such  sub- 
stances is  limited  only  by  the  inconceivably  immense  number  of  com- 
binations and  varying  proportions  in  which  between  sixty  and  seventy 
elements  may  unite.  So  the  combination  of  heterogeneous  elements 
in  substances  less  heterogeneous  is  a  process  by  which  variety,  differ- 
entiation, and  heterogeneity,  in  substance  as  well  as  in  form,  have 
been  produced.  By  this  process  has  grown,  from  a  nebulous  mass,  a 
planet  with  all  its  variety  of  water,  land,  and  sky,  fitted  for  the  habita- 
tion of  living  creatures,  themselves  an  exemplification  of  the  same 
process.  It  is  the  primary  law  of  evolution. 

8.  In  the  process  of  evolution,  increase  of  heterogeneity 
results  from  "  the  multiplication  of  effects,"  for  in  "actions 
and  reaction  of  force  and  matter  an  unlikeness  of  either  of 
the  factors  necessitates  an  unlikeness  of  the  effects."  All 
parts  of  a  body  can  not  be  conditioned  precisely  alike  with 
reference  to  the  environment,  since  the  parts  must  be  sub- 
ject to  unlike  forces  and  to  different  intensities  of  the  same 
force.  Exemplifications  of  the  instability  of  the  homogene- 
ous are  afforded  by  the  rusting  of  iron,  the  uneven  cooling 


110          Herbert  Spencer's  Synthetic  Philosophy. 

of  molten  lead  or  sulphur,  and  the  impossibility  of  keeping 
a  body  of  water  free  from  currents.  The  more  heterogene- 
ous a  body  becomes,  the  more  rapid  the  multiplication  of 
effects.  Every  event  which  involves  the  decomposition  of 
force  into  several  forces  produces  greater  complication  and 
increased  heterogeneity ;  and,  when  this  process  of  differen- 
tiation combines  with  the  process  of  integration  to  make 
the  change  from  the  homogeneous  to  the  heterogeneous  at 
the  same  time  as  that  from  the  indefinite  to  the  definite,  we 
have  compound  evolution.  Mere  increase  of  heterogeneity 
and  multiformity  of  parts  does  not  constitute  progress.  A 
cancer  introduces  into  an  organism  changes  that  make  it 
more  heterogeneous,  yet  it  may  cause  death.  The  anarchy 
resulting  from  a  revolution  makes  a  state  more  heterogene- 
ous, yet  it  may  be  the  precursor  of  its  dissolution.  The  law 
of  passage  from  the  homogeneous  to  the  heterogeneous  is  a 
law  of  progress,  but  not  the  law  of  progress.  The  primary 
law  of  progress  (or  evolution,  which  in  his  later  works 
Spencer  substitutes  for  the  word  "  progress  ")  is  the  inte- 
gration of  matter  and  the  concomitant  dissipation  of  mo- 
tion, which  is  alike  exhibited  in  the  crystallization  of  carbon 
into  a  diamond  and  the  growth  of  an  animal  from  a  germ ; 
but  when,  as  in  the  field  of  biology,  there  is  with  continual 
integration  of  matter  increasing  heterogeneity  of  form, 
progress  is  possible  only  when  there  is  also  increasing  co- 
herence, definiteness,  and  mutual  dependence  of  parts  and 
a  subordination  of  the  various  parts  and  manifold  functions 
to  the  movements  of  the  whole  structure.  Cancers  produce 
differentiation ;  but,  as  they  can  not  be  integrated  in  har- 
mony with  the  rest  of  the  body,  they  result  not  in  progress 
but  in  death.  Thus  it  is  seen  that  evolution  is  a  double 
process — a  movement  toward  unity  as  well  as  diversity.  In- 
tegration, the  primary  process,  under  certain  conditions  the 
most  completely  realized  by  organic  bodies,  is  accompanied 
by  a  complementary  process  from  indefinite,  incoherent 
homogeneity  to  definite  coherent  heterogeneity.  Variety 
increases  with  the  unity  it  accomplishes.  The  evolution  of 
an  animal  from  an  egg  or  a  tree  from  a  seed  occurs  by  the 
integration  of  various  elements  into  a  complex  structure,  in 
which  at  the  same  time  go  on  continual  differentiations  and 
local  integrations,  making  the  whole  a  compact  aggregate 
that  presents  great  heterogeneity  in  itself  and  at  the  same 
time  a  wide  differentiation  from  all  other  aggregates. 

9.  The  field  of  this  compound  evolution  is  among  bodies 


Herbert  Spencer's  Synthetic  Philosophy.          Ill 

of  differing  densities,  between  gases  wherein  the  molecular 
motion  is  too  rapid  to  admit  of  a  structural  arrangement, 
and  solids  in  which  the  amount  of  retained  motion  is  too 
small  to  admit  of  molecular  rearrangement.  Spencer  ob- 
serves :  "  A  large  amount  of  secondary  redistribution  is  possi- 
ble only  where  there  is  a  great  quantity  of  retained  motion ; 
and,  on  the  other  hand,  these  distributions  can  have  promi- 
nence only  when  the  contained  motion  has  become  small, 
opposing  conditions  that  seem  to  negative  any  large  amount 
of  secondary  redistribution."  It  is  in  organic  bodies  "  that 
these  apparently  contradictory  conditions  are  reconciled," 
for  their  peculiarity  consists  in  the  concentration  of  matter 
in  a  high  degree  with  a  far  larger  amount  of  molecular  mo- 
tion than  is  found  in  other  bodies  of  the  same  degree  of 
concentration. 

10.  All  living  forms  have  been  evolved  in  accordance 
with  the  above-mentioned  laws.     The  most  complex  are  the 
product  of  modifications  wrought  on  pre-existent  animals. 
The  evolution  of  species  goes  on,  not  in  ascending  lineal 
series,  but  by  continual  divergence  and  redivergence.    Com- 
plexity of  life  and  intelligence  is  correlated  with  complexity 
of  structure.     The  highest  form  of  intelligence,  the  human, 
has  been  reached  by  modifications  wrought  through  ages 
upon  pre-existing  intelligences. 

11.  The  mental  faculties  of  man,  not  less  than  his  brain 
and  nervous  system,  are  the  product  of  innumerable  modi- 
fications in  the  evolution  of  the  highest  creatures  from  the 
lowest. 

Experiences  registered  in  the  nervous  system  produce 
structural  changes  and  are  accompanied  by  mental  modifi- 
cations. The  aptitudes  and  intuitions  of  the  human  mind 
are  the  product  of  accumulated  human  experiences,  trans- 
mitted and  organized  in  the  race.  Even  the  "  a  priori  forms 
of  thought "  have  been  slowly  acquired.  Whatever  in  the 
mind  transcends  the  experience  of  the  individual  is  never- 
theless the  product  of  ancestral  experiences. 

I'-i.  Xot  only  is  it  true  that  our  highest  conceptions  of 
morality  have  been  evolved  in  accordance  with  these  laws, 
but  even  the  moral  sense  has  been  formed  by  accumulated 
and  multiplied  experiences,  registered  in  the  slowly  evolving 
organism  and  transmitted  as  intuition,  as  sensitive  in  some 
persons  to  a  moral  wrong  as  the  tactile  sense  is  to  the  sting 
of  a  bee.  The  ultimate  basis  of  morality  is  the  source  of 
all  phenomena,  "  an  inscrutable  power,"  as  John  Fiske  well 


112         Herbert  Spencer's  Synthetic  Philosophy. 

says,  "  of  which  the  properties  of  matter  and  motion  necessi- 
tating the  process  of  evolution,  with  pain  and  wrong  as  its 
concomitants,  are  the  phenomenal  manifestations." 

13.  The  religious  sentiment,  equally  with  the  moral  sense, 
has  been  evolved  through  psychical  conditions  represented 
by  all  the  stages  of  life  below  man.     The  object  of  religious 
sentiment  is  the  unknowable  reality.     The  essential  truth 
of  religion  is  involved  in  a  recognition  of  an  absolute  upon 
which  all  phenomena  depend,  while  its  fundamental  error 
begins  with  investing  this  reality  with  anthropomorphic 
qualities. 

14.  All  conceptions  and   systems,  philosophical,  ethical, 
and  religious ;  language,  government,  poetry,  art,  science, 
philosophy,  and  industrial  pursuits;  all  human  activities, 
equally  with  animal  and  vegetable  forms,  plants,  solar  and 
stellar  ^systems — have  been  evolved  from  a  homogeneous, 
indefinite,  and  incoherent  condition  to   a  heterogeneous, 
definite,  and  coherent  state. 

Such  is  the  merest  abstract,  and  a  very  imperfect  one,  of 
the  doctrine  of  evolution  as  maintained  by  Herbert  Spencer. 

The  doctrine  of  the  unknowable  is  unwelcome  to  theolo- 
gians generally  and  to  those  theologically  inclined,  because 
it  is  opposed  to  all  systems  and  theories  based  upon  the  as- 
sumption of  the  knowledge  of  God — his  nature,  attributes, 
purpose,  etc.  It  is  opposed  by  others  of  anti-theological 
views,  because  they  think,  especially  when  they  see  Unknow- 
able printed  with  the  initial  letter  a  capital,  that  it  implies 
the  existence  of  a  God  more  or  less  like  the  theological 
conception  which  they  have  renounced.  Both  classes  may, 
when  they  come  to  appreciate  fully  the  reasoning  by  which 
the  conclusion  has  been  reached  by  men  like  Kant  and 
Spencer,  reconsider  more  carefully  their  objections,  and 
adopt  the  view  in  which  are  united  all  that  is  tenable  in  the 
affirmation  of  the  theist  with  all  that  is  warranted  in  the 
criticism  of  the  atheist. 

One  anti-theological  writer  characterizes  Spencer's  thought 
as  a  "  spook  "  philosophy ;  on  the  other  hand,  an  idealist,  a 
disciple  of  the  late  Prof.  Thomas  Hill  Green,  in  the  latest 
number  of  the  Journal  of  Speculative  Philosophy  (date, 
January,  1888),  speaks  of  "  the  philosophy  of  scientific  ma- 
terialism and  agnosticism,  of  which  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer 
is  the  most  distinguished  exponent,"  of  the  "full-fledged 
scientific  materialistic  philosophy  of  Lewes  and  Spencer  and 
their  adjutants,"  ignoring  the  fact  that  in  Spencer's  phi- 


Herbert  Spencer's  Synthetic  Philosophy.          113 

losophy  conceptions  of  matter  and  motion  are  treated  merely 
as  symbols  of  an  ultimate  reality  which  is  manifested  be- 
yond consciousness  as  matter  and  motion  and  in  conscious- 
ness as  feeling  and  thought.  Some  writers  have  character- 
ized Spencer's  philosophy  by  the  word  dualism,  to  make  it 
appear  to  be  in  opposition  to  what  they  call  "  monism," 
whereas  Mr.  Spencer  is  thoroughly  monistic,  since,  as  he 
says :  "  I  recognize  no  forces  within  the  organism  or  with- 
out the  organism  but  the  variously  conditional  modes  of 
the  universal  immanent  force;  and  the  whole  process  of 
organic  evolution  is  everywhere  attributed  by  me  to  the  co- 
operation of  its  variously  conditioned  modes,  internal  and 
external." 

Quite  a  common  impression  is  that  the  doctrine  that  all 
knowledge  is  relative,  that  we  can  not  know  the  absolute, 
carries  with  it  the  implication  somehow  that  there  is  no 
possibility  of  any  plane  of  intelligent  existence  except  that 
known. 

There  is  nothing  in  the  doctrine  of  the  "  absolute  "  or  the 
"  unknowable,"  as  expounded  either  by  Kant  or  Spencer, 
that  is  inconsistent  with  the  continuance  of  life  under  other 
conditions  than  those  of  the  present  state  of  being.  There 
is  nothing  in  this  doctrine  which  implies  that  man  does 
not  survive  physical  death  or  that  there  are  not  higher 
planes  of  existence  than  are  known  here.  The  philosophy 
of  the  absolute  or  the  unknowable  merely  teaches  that  all 
knowledge  is  relative,  that  in  perception  there  are  two  fac- 
tors—the mind  and  the  objective  reality — and  that,  instead  of 
actually  perceiving  the  objective  reality  as  it  absolutely  is, 
the  mind  perceives  a  phenomenon,  an  appearance,  a  repre- 
sentation symbolical  of  and  corresponding  with,  but  not  a 
likeness  of,  the  objective  thing.  The  "  substratum  "  of  men- 
tal phenomena  is  no  more  known  than  is  that  of  physical 
phenomena.  As  Daniel  Greenleaf  Thompson  says :  "  The 
truth  is,  we  are  forced  by  the  laws  of  cognition  to  postulate 
an  unknown  reality  behind  the  known  reality,  both  of  mat- 
ter and  mind,  a  dark  side  of  the  material  world  and  of  in- 
telligence, an  imperceptible  substantive  being,  put  of  which 
somehow  comes  the  perceptible,  and  into  which  it  disap- 
pears, a  source  of  both  material  and  mental  phenomena,  a 
cause  of  their  effects,  a  permanent  in  which  alone  change  is 
possible,  a  possibility  for  all  actualities  and  a  power  which 
transcends  knowledge  but  which  is  presupposed  in  all 
knowledge.  This  is  the  meaning  of  the  paradox." 


114          Herbert  Spencer's  Synthetic  Philosophy. 

This  philosophy  does  not  make  conceivability,  much  less 
sensibility,  the  test  of  possibility.  On  the  contrary,  it  recog- 
nizes the  fact  that  there  are  many  motions  of  the  universe 
to  which  the  dull  senses  of  man  make  no  response  whatever. 
There  are  a  great  number  and  variety  of  movements  of 
which  sense-bound  beings  can  take  no  cognizance.  With 
superior  sensorial  perceptions  man  would  be  able  to  discern 
many  of  these  movements  which  are  now  incognizable. 

"  Indeed,"  says  Tyndall  in  the  Eeade  Lectures  on  Kadiant 
Heat,  "  the  domain  of  the  senses  in  Nature  is  almost  infi- 
nitely small  in  comparison  with  the  vast  region  accessible 
to  thought  which  lies  beyond  them.  From  a  few  observa- 
tions of  a  comet  when  it  comes  within  the  range  of  his  tele- 
scope, an  astronomer  can  calculate  its  path  in  regions  which 
no  telescope  can  reach ;  and  in  like  manner,  by  means  of 
data  furnished  in  the  narrow  world  of  the  senses,  we  make 
ourselves  at  home  in  other  and  wider  worlds,  which  can  be 
traversed  by  the  intellect  alone." 

And  Lewes  remarks  to  the  same  purport :  "  We  do  not 
actually  experience  through  feeling  a  tithe  of  what  we 
firmly  believe  and  can  demonstrate  to  intuition.  The  invisi- 
ble is  like  the  snow  at  the  North  Pole ;  no  human  eye  has 
beheld  it,  but  the  mind  is  assured  of  its  existence ;  and  is, 
moreover,  convinced  that  if  the  snow  exists  there,  it  has  the 
properties  found  elsewhere.  Nor  is  the  invisible  confined 
to  objects  which  have  never  been  presented  to  sense,  al- 
though they  may  be  presented  on  some  future  occasion ;  it 
also  comprises  objects  beyond  even  this  possible  range,  be- 
yond all  practicable  extension  of  sense." 

But  however  extended  is  man's  knowledge,  it  is  always 
knowledge  possessed  under  the  conditions  of  knowing, 
which  include  a  relation  between  the  me  and  the  not-me, 
and  perception  and  thought  according  to  the  mental  consti- 
tution. 

As  Mr.  E.  D.  Fawcet  says,  Kant,  who  denied  that  the 
mind  could  know  things  in  themselves,  "  expressed  himself 
favorable  to  the  view  that  a  world  of  supersensuous  beings 
environs  this  planet,  and  that  the  establishment  of  commu- 
nication with  such  beings  is  only  a  matter  of  time.  Kant 
indeed  was  far  too  acute  not  to  see  that  a  speculative  agnos- 
ticism (shutting  out  the  possibility  of  absolute  knowledge  of 
realities)  can  not  possibly  assert  that  there  is  no  plane  of 
relative  or  phenomenal  experience  except  that  called  the 
physical  world.  Contrariwise,  there  may  be  innumerable 


Herbert  Spencer's  Synthetic  Philosophy.          115 

strata  of  materiality  all  alike  relative  to  the  consciousness 
of  their  '  percipients.'  " 

The  doctrine  of  the  relativity  of  knowledge  and  of  the 
inscrutableness  of  the  ultimate  nature  of  things  has  been 
held  by  nearly  all  the  great  thinkers  of  ancient  and  modern 
times,  including  men  of  firm  faith  in  immortality.  To 
confound  this  doctrine  with  the  doctrine  of  materialism  is 
to  betray  ignorance  of  philosophic  thought.  With  the 
question  whether  there  is  or  is  not  a  future  life  for  man  I  am 
not  here  concerned.  Spencer  neither  affirms  belief  in  such  a 
life  nor  denies  its  possibility.  There  is  nothing  in  his  sys- 
tem of  philosophy  that  involves  necessarily,  so  far  as  I  can 
see,  either  the  acceptance  or  rejection  of  the  doctrine  of  the 
continuance  of  conscious  existence  after  bodily  dissolution. 
If  it  could  be  disproved,  his  philosophy  would  not  be  af- 
fected thereby ;  if  it  could  be  demonstrated  beyond  doubt 
to  be  true,  the  philosophy  would  be  in  no  need  of  modifica- 
tion, for  the  phenomenal  world  would  only  be  extended  and 
the  domain  of  science  enlarged.  One  may  hold  to  Spen- 
cer's philosophy  and  yet  believe  with  Shadworth  Hodgson 
in  "  an  ethereal  body  built  up  during  our  lifetime  within 
our  grosser  body,  destined  to  preserve  our  individuality  after 
death."  The  only  question  is,  Is  there  proof  of  this  theory 
of  an  ethereal  body  ?  Our  American  psychologist  and  phi- 
losopher, Mr.  D.  G-.  Thompson,  who  accepts  Mr.  Spencer's 
philosophy  in  all  its  essential  doctrines  and  implications,  is 
"  inclined  to  the  opinion  that  the  ground  for  the  assertion 
of  post-mortem  personal  self-consciousness  in  identity  with 
ante-mortem  self -consciousness  is  firmer  than  for  the  con- 
trary belief."  He  thinks  it  is  "  no  harder  to  understand 
the  continued  existence  of  personal  existence  after  death 
than  to  comprehend  its  occupation  in  sleep  and  restoration 
afterward."  Mr.  Thompson  adds:  "The  same  arguments 
that  support  the  belief  in  continued  personal  existence  after 
death  tend  also  to  prove  an  existence  before  birth.  Is  it 
possible  that  we  must  return  to  the  pre-existence  doctrines 
of  the  ancient  philosophers  ?  Is  it  possible  that  we  must 
each  say,  I  am ;  therefore  I  always  was  and  always  shall  be  ? 
Dios  sale  I  "  Others  think  that  the  implications  of  Spen- 
cer's philosophy  point  to  physical  dissolution  as  the  end  of 
consciousness. 

A  few  years  ago  Mr.  Eichard  A.  Proctor,  in  conversation, 
gave  me  his  estimate  of  Herbert  Spencer,  which  subsequent- 
ly, by  my  request,  be  put  in  a  form  for  publication,  and  it 


116          Herbert  Spencer's  Synthetic  Philosophy. 

appeared  as  a  contribution  in  a  journal  which  I  then  con- 
ducted. From  that  paper  the  following  is  an  extract :  "  If 
we  compare  Herbert  Spencer,  in  any  department  of  science, 
with  some  chief  master  in  that  department,  we  find  him  at 
once  less  and  greater ;  less  in  knowledge  of  details  and  in 
mastery  of  facts  and  methods ;  greater  in  that  he  sees  out- 
side and  beyond  the  mere  details  of  that  special  subject  and 
recognizes  the  relation  of  its  region  of  inquiry  to  the  much 
wider  domain  over  which  his  own  philosophy  extends.  .  .  . 

"  Yet  one  can  not  but  pause,  when  contemplating  Herbert 
Spencer's  work  in  departments  of  research,  to  note  with 
wonder  how  he  has  been  enabled,  by  mere  clearness  of  in- 
sight, to  discern  truths  which  escaped  the  notice  of  the  very 
leaders  in  those  special  subjects  of  inquiry.  To  take  as- 
'  tronomy,  for  example,  a  subject  which,  more,  perhaps,  than 
any  other,  requires  long  and  special  study  before  the  facts 
with  which  it  deals  can  be  rightly  interpreted,  Spencer  rea- 
soned justly  respecting  the  most  difficult  as  well  as  the 
highest  of  all  subjects  of  astronomical  research,  the  archi- 
tecture of  the  stellar  system,  when  the  Herschels,  Arago, 
and  Humboldt  adopted  or  accepted  erroneous  views.  In 
this  particular  matter  I  had  a  noteworthy  illustration  of  the 
justice  of  a  remark  made  (either,  by  Youmans  or  Fiske,  I 
forget  which)  at  the  Spencer  banquet  in  New  York  a  few 
years  ago :  '  In  every  department  of  inquiry  even  the  most 
zealous  specialists  must  take  the  ideas  of  Herbert  Spencer 
into  consideration.'  After  long  and  careful  study  specially 
directed  to  that  subject,  I  advanced  in  1869  opinions  which 
I  supposed  to  be  new  respecting  the  architecture  of  the 
heavens — opinions  which  Spencer  himself,  in  his  Study  of 
Sociology,  has  described  as  'going  far  to  help  us  in  conceiv- 
ing the  constitution  of  our  own  galaxy.'  Yet  I  found  that 
twelve  years  before,  dealing  with  that  part  of  science  in  his 
specially  planned  survey  of  the  whole  domain,  he  had  seen 
clearly  many  of  the  points  on  which  I  insisted  later,  and 
had  found  in  such  points  sufficient  evidence  to  lead  him  to 
correct  views  respecting  the  complexity  and  variety  of  the 
sidereal  system." 

In  conclusion,  The  Synthetic  Philosophy,  as  at  present  con- 
stituted, is  not,  of  course,  to  be  regarded  as  a  finality.  While 
man  continues  to  advance  in  knowledge,  all  systems,  to  be 
of  current  value,  will  have  to  be  subjected  to  much  revision 
and  supplementation;  but  I  am,  I  think,  warranted  in  say- 
ing that  the  leading  principles  of  the  synthetic  philosophy 


Herbert  Spencer's  Synthetic  Philosophy.          117 

are  likely  to  remain  a  solid  and  permanent  contribution 
to  scientific  and  philosophic  thought.  Herbert  Spencer's 
discovery  and  elucidation  of  the  experiential  origin  of  intui- 
tion and  his  consequent  reconciliation  of  the  sensation  phi- 
losophy and  the  intuitional  school,  together  with  his  for- 
mulation and  establishment  of  the  principles  of  universal 
evolution,  entitle  him  to  rank  among  the  most  original 
thinkers  of  modern  times.  He  will  easily  hold  his  place  as 
the  most  profound  and  comprehensive  philosophic  mind  of 
the  nineteenth  century. 


118          Herbert  Spencer's  Synthetic  Philosophy. 


ABSTRACT   OF   THE    DISCUSSION. 

MR.  RAYMOND  S.  PEEEIN  : 

As  I  have  listened  to  the  lecture  of  the  evening,  I  have  experienced, 
in  common,  I  have  no  doubt,  with  a  great  many  in  this  audience,  an 
impression  of  being  overwhelmed  with  an  avalanche  of  philosophic 
terms.  The  speaker  has  impressed  us  with  the  store  of  knowledge 
which  he  has  acquired,  but  he  has  left  us  confused  and  unhappy.  A 
few  simple  truths  clearly  and  properly  presented  would  have  resulted 
in  something  more  practical  in  the  way  of  information  than  this  ab- 
struse philosophical  discussion.  I  am  a  great  admirer  of  Herbert 
Spencer,  who  has  undoubtedly  given  us  the  most  remarkable  philo- 
sophical system  of  the  present  century.  On  its  objective  side  its  mode 
of  procedure  has  been  scientific,  and  it  is  in  effect  a  synthesis  of  all 
the  special  sciences.  But  I  am  no  admirer  of  Kant ;  and  in  so  far  as 
Spencer  has  borrowed  from  Kant,  I  can  not  accept  his  conclusions  as 
rational  and  valid.  To  one  who  is  familiar  with  the  philosophy  of 
Plato,  Kant's  Critique  of  Pure  Reason  is  a  roaring  farce.  Mr.  Spencer 
has  apparently  accepted  his  conclusion  that  there  is  a  Ding  an  sich 
behind  phenomena — an  absolute  Being  which  is  to  us  unknowable. 
But  if  it  is  unknowable,  how  do  we  know  that  there  is  any  such  abso- 
lute Being  ?  This  conclusion  is  not  the  result  of  scientific  analysis,  but 
of  metaphysical  speculation.  The  truly  scientific  procedure  in  phi- 
losophy would  be,  instead  of  resolving  all  things  into  an  unknowable 
substance,  to  discover  analytically  what  is  the  common  content  of  all 
phenomena — those  which  are  called  mental  as  well  as  those  which  are 
called  physical.  The  only  quality  or  principle  common  to  all  known 
modes  of  being  is  motion.  Motion  is  a  principle  of  life  and  mind  as 
well  as  of  material  things.  Absence  of  motion  would  be  absolute  death 
or  nonentity.  In  the  ultimate  analysis  we  reach  this  principle  of  mo- 
tion or  life  everywhere,  and  we  are  therefore  justified  in  positing  it  as 
the  supreme  reality  in  the  place  of  the  unknowable  of  Mr.  Spencer. 

ME.  WILLIAM  H.  BOUGHTON  : 

The  comprehensive,  just,  judicious,  and  judicial  paper  to  which  we 
have  listened  to-night  has  yielded  to  us  all  the  pleasure  which  a  model 
review  can  give,  and  leaves  nothing  for  criticism  of  matter  or  method. 

But  it  may  be  of  interest  to  call  attention  to  some  conclusions  of  Mr. 
Spencer  which  he  may  not  have  established  upon  as  firm  a  foundation 


Herbert  Spencer's  Synthetic  Philosophy.          119 

as  that  upon  which  he  has  reared  his  doctrine  of  evolution.  I  refer  to 
his  theory  of  an  unknowable  power,  or  ultimate  force  or  final  first 
cause,  from  which  all  things  proceed. 

This  conclusion  can  not  be  drawn  from  such  unassailable  premises 
as  Mr.  Spencer's  definition  of  space — viz.,  the  abstract  of  all  coexist- 
ences ;  nor  from  the  character  of  such  existences  to  be  found  in  his 
definition  of  matter — viz.,  coexistent  positions  which  offer  resistance — 
implying,  as  he  must  imply,  all  of  motion  in  that  word  "  positions," 
and  excluding,  as  he  must  exclude  therefrom,  all  ideas  of  fixity.  Fi- 
nality can  not  be  ascribed  to  cause ;  and  with  the  fall  of  finality  comes 
the  fall  of  its  illogical  conclusion— viz.,  that  creative  power  which  is 
implied  in  Mr.  Spencer's  words,  '•  from  which  all  things  proceed." 

All  we  know  or  can  imagine  of  cause  is  antecedence — that  one  thing 
precedes  another  and  a  different  thing  in  time. 

There  is  no  question  of  a  series  here.  The  last  thing  is  not  the  end 
of  cause,  and  the  first  thing  does  not  begin  it  The  one  is  as  unthink- 
able as  the  other.  With  the  demolition  of  finality,  what  becomes  of 
its  creative  power  t  There  is  no  question  here  of  quantity  nor  of  qual- 
ity. If  matter  is  indestructible,  power  could  not  have  caused  it ;  and, 
if  power  is  imperishable,  it  can  not  in  that  respect  be  distinguished 
from  matter.  If  power  has  any  existence,  it  falls  under  the  definition 
of  matter ;  if  space  is  all  existence,  it  can  have  no  other  meaning  than 
indefinitely  extended  matter,  and  their  coexistence  prevents  proces- 
sion and  throws  out  all  ideas  of  final  cause  and  final  antecedence. 

It  seems  to  me  that  Mr.  Spencer's  error  flows  from  a  misapplication 
of  the  fact  that  we  think  in  relations  and  can  not  think  of  a  knowable 
power  except  as  related  to  an  unknowable  power. 

This  relation  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  subject,  for  the  reason  that 
it  is  not  a  question  of  the  relation  of  a  knowable  whole  or  a  knowable 
part  to  an  unknowable  whole,  for  space  is  not  a  limited  whole,  and  an 
unlimited  whole  is  a  contradiction  in  terms.  Space  has  no  opposite, 
no  antithesis.  Form  is  not  its  opposite.  The  constantly  changing 
forms  which  indefinitely  extended  matter  assumes  are  included  in 
space,  as  the  shape  of  the  apple  is  included  in  the  apple. 

Of  course  there  is  no  time  to-night  to  amplify  the  views  which  I 
have  expressed,  nor  to  state  them  except  dogmatically,  and  I  will 
therefore  close  by  thanking  the  lecturer  for  his  paper  and  the  audi- 
ence for  its  attention. 

DR.  ROBERT  G.  ECCLES  : 

Mr.  Underwood's  lecture  is  a  very  able  and  satisfactory  exposition 
of  the  synthetic  philosophy.  He  had  a  big  subject  to  deal  with,  and, 
of  course,  could  only  be  expected  to  present  the  merest  outline  in  an 


120          Herbert  Spencer's  Synthetic  Philosophy. 

hour's  talk.  He  dwelt  chiefly  on  the  psychological  side  rather  than 
the  physical.  This  was  almost  inevitable  under  existing  circum- 
stances, and  no  doubt  the  best,  since  Mr.  Spencer's  contributions 
have  been  more  notable  and  original  here  than  in  the  physical  domain. 
In  the  latter  he  relied  more  on  the  work  of  eminent  biologists  like 
Darwin  and  Huxley.  All  he  has  done  is  but  a  continuation  of  the 
work  of  preceding  philosophers.  The  doctrine  of  evolution  is  itself 
an  evolution,  and  was  only  synthetized  by  Mr.  Spencer.  It  is  in  the 
direct  line  of  descent  of  the  work  of  the  best  reasoners  of  all  ages, 
and  only  became  possible  in  its  present  form  after  the  advent  of  mod- 
ern science.  It  is  really  a  growth  of  the  ages  and  not  the  work  of  a 
day  or  even  a  century.  It  owes  much  to  Kant,  Berkeley,  Reid,  Hume, 
and  other  great  thinkers  who  have  been  mentioned  to-night.  It  has 
found  allied  truths  in  contending  schools  of  thought,  brought  them 
together  and  fused  them  into  a  harmonic  whole.  To  understand  it 
correctly  requires  breadth  of  thought,  abundance  of  data,  and  persist- 
ent, hard  mental  work.  Without  these  it  remains  as  incomprehensible 
as  the  higher  mathematics  to  the  non-educated. 

It  is  quite  evident  from  Mr.  Perrin's  remarks  that  he  has  failed  com- 
pletely to  grasp  the  basic  principles  of  its  psychology.  There  is  a  pons 
asinoriim  here  that  he  has  not  crossed.  This  surprises  me  very  much. 
Himself  a  writer  on  philosophical  subjects  of  acknowledged  ability, 
one  would  have  expected  better  things  from  him  here.  What  he  has 
said  reveals  the  fact  that  the  doctrine  of  the  "  unknowable "  is  un- 
known to  him  except  in  name.  He  neither  has  grasped  what  Spencer 
and  his  disciples  mean  by  it,  nor  the  significance  of  the  facts  upon 
which  it  rests.  Its  basis  is  wholly  physiological,  and  as  an  implication 
it  is  imperative.  All  that  it  involves  is  a  correct  comprehension  of  the 
nature  and  limitations  of  human  sense  and  perception.  To  know  what 
we  know,  and  how  we  know  it,  is  to  demonstrate  what  Mr.  Perrin 
denies.  For  him  to  characterize  Kant's  Critique  of  Pure  Reason  as  a 
"  farce  "  is  only  to  reveal  the  sad  limitations  of  his  own  mental  grasp. 
However  much  we  may  dissent  from  some  of  this  great  German's  con- 
clusions, we  all  must  admit  him  to  be  one  of  the  very  ablest  and  most 
profound  reasoners  the  world  has  ever  seen.  Whoever  attempts  to 
ignore  or  underestimate  his  work  only  discountenances  his  own  prow- 
ess. That  he  believed  in  "  things  in  themselves "  was  but  evidence 
that  he  held  the  universe  to  be  real  instead  of  illusory.  The  pict- 
ures in  our  brains  have  as  causes  substantial  verities.  Mr.  Perrin 
holds  that  real  being  is  motion.  "  Things  in  themselves,"  he  contends, 
are  mere  motions.  But  motions  of  what?  Of  nothing,  he  maintains. 
How  many  of  you  can  picture  to  your  minds  motions  of  nothings  ? 
Reason  rebels  against  being  forced  to  accept  such  a  thought,  Are  not 


Herbert  Spencer's  Synthetic  Philosophy.          121 

such  motions  unknowable!  This  apotheosis  of  motion  does  not  help 
philosophy  in  the  least.  It  is  practically  telling  us  that  the  world 
rests  on  the  shoulders  of  Atlas,  but  fails  to  say  what  that  worthy 
stands  upon  for  his  support. 

MR.  JOHN  A.  TAYLOR  : 

The  essay  to  which  we  have  listened  this  evening  must  be  regarded, 
I  think,  by  all  competent  to  judge,  as  one  of  the  most  candid  and  able 
expositions  of  philosophical  truth  to  which  this  association  has  ever 
listened.  It  is  indeed  a  large  subject,  and  can  hardly  be  treated  in  the 
form  of  a  popular  lecture.  I  think,  however,  that  Mr.  Underwood  has 
been  remarkably  successful  in  presenting  to  us  a  clear  and  correct  ex- 
position of  Mr.  Spencer's  philosophy.  If  Mr.  Perrin  had  given  a  little 
more  thought  to  the  matter,  he  would  hardly  have  complained,  I 
think,  of  the  abstruse  character  of  the  essay.  Surely  the  lecturer  has 
used  no  terms  so  technical  that  a  philosophical  student  can  not  readily 
grasp  and  understand  them.  It  should  have  been  left  to  us  who  make 
no  claims  to  philosophical  distinction  to  make  this  criticism — if  it  is 
to  be  made.  But,  unfamiliar  as  I  am  with  Kant — whose  works  I  have 
tried  in  vain  to  read— and  the  abstruse  discussions  of  other  meta- 
physicians, I  found  no  difficulty  in  comprehending  the  lecturer's  ex- 
position. I  regard  Mr.  Spencer  as  the  foremost  philosopher  of  our 
time,  and  think  the  association  is  to  be  congratulated  on  the  oppor- 
tunity of  listening  to  such  an  able  presentation  of  his  views.  I  would 
move,  sir,  as  an  expression  of  our  appreciation  of  the  ability  of  the  lec- 
turer as  a  foremost  advocate  of  evolution  views,  that  Mr.  Underwood 
be  elected  a  corresponding  member  of  the  Brooklyn  Ethical  Association. 

(The  motion  being  duly  seconded  and  put  to  vote  by  the  president, 
Mr.  Underwood  was  unanimously  elected). 

MR.  UNDERWOOD  : 

Recognizing  the  excellent  work  which  this  association  has  done, 
with  which  I  have  long  been  familiar,  I  regard  your  election  of  myself 
as  corresponding  member  as  a  high  honor,  and  accept  it  in  the  spirit  in 
which  it  has  been  tendered.  I  also  thank  you  for  the  general  charac- 
ter of  your  criticisms.  The  task  imposed  upon  me  was  a  great  one — 
one  which  required  a  course  of  lectures  rather  than  an  hour's  discus- 
sion for  its  accomplishment.  No  one  can  be  better  aware  than  myself 
of  the  imperfections  of  my  lecture.  The  subject  is  one  which  neces- 
sitates the  use  of  philosophical  terms,  but  I  have  endeavored  to  present 
it  as  clearly  and  concisely  as  possible.  The  animadversions  on  Mr. 
Spencer's  views  have  been  so  fully  answered  by  other  speakers  that  I 
will  not  occupy  your  time  by  a  further  reply. 


THE 
EVOLUTION  OF  CHEMISTRY 


BY 

ROBERT  G.  ECCLES,  M.  D. 

AUTHOR  OF  EVOLUTION  OF  MINT).   THE  RELATIVITY  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 
EVOLUTION  OF  MEDICAL  SCIENCE,   ETC. 


COLLATERAL  READINGS  SUGGESTED: 

Article  Chemistry  in  American  Cyclopsedia  and  Encyclopaedia 
Britannica;  Cooke's  New  Chemistry;  Johnston's  The  Chemistry  of 
Common  Life;  Meyer's  Modern  Theories  of  Chemistry;  Galloway's 
The  Fundamental  Principles  of  Chemistry ;  Rod  well's  On  the  Birth 
of  Chemistry ;  Whewell's  History  of  the  Inductive  Sciences. 


THE  EVOLUTION  OF  CHEMISTRY. 
BY  R.  G.  ECCLES,  M.  D. 

CHEMISTRY  has  been  defined  as  the  science  of  matter. 
Though  but  recently  organized  as  a  compact  body  of  re- 
lated facts,  its  roots  run  back  into  the  depths  of  the  prehis- 
toric past.  The  first  fire  kindled,  the  first  food  cooked,  and 
the  first  metal  extracted  from  its  ore,  constitute  the  earliest 
chemical  experiments  consciously  performed  by  man.  The 
facts  accumulated  since  then  are  practically  numberless,  and 
the  explanations  advanced  as  to  their  meaning  have  in  no 
wise  been  meager.  By  guessing  every  possible  way,  men  coul d 
not  help  occasionally  guessing  the  right  way.  However 
whimsical  the  reasons  given  by  the  ancients  "for  their  the- 
ories of  matter,  the  fact  stands  prominently  forth  that 
sometimes  they  struck  what  we  now  believe  to  be  truth. 
How  could  they  help  it  ?  One  of  the  ways  must  be  right  if 
every  way  is  tried.  Time  may  vanquish  error,  but  can  not 
demolish  truth.  From  their  narrow  standpoints  of  limited 
data  they  no  doubt  reasoned  as  soundly  as  we  do,  so  that 
what  to  us  seems  very  absurd,  to  them  was  not  in  the  least 
incongruous.  When  their  earliest  fetichism  gave  way  to 
polytheism  and  monotheism  their  speculations  about  matter 
met  a  corresponding  revision.  The  Parsee,  who  saw  in  fire 
his  god,  naturally  supposed  all  things  were  made  by  or  of 
fire.  The  Hindoo  looked  beyond  fire  to  a  hypothetic  ether 
for  his  gods,  and  so  deemed  that  the  primal  substance. 
Homer's  Okeanus,  or  god  of  the  ocean,  was  the  source  of 
all  other  gods,  and  so  we  find  Thales  of  Miletus  teaching 
the  early  Greeks  that  water  was  the  first  matter.  Anexi- 
menes  at  a  later  date  reasoned  that  as  clouds  form  water 
and  invisible  air  clouds,  air,  not  water,  is  the  beginning  of 
things.  Pherecides  evidently  had  no  other  theological  cos- 
mogony than  his  fetich-worshiping  predecessors  when  he 
called  earth  primal.  Like  Topsy,  he  believed  that  things 
"  just  grew."  The  building  of  the'  Pantheon  diffused  a  spirit 
of  eclecticism.  Acceptance  of  all  the  gods  meant  ac- 
knowledgment of  all  their  elements.  Aristotle  presents 
five.  These  are  ether,  fire,  air,  water,  and  earth.  At  a  lit- 


126  The  Evolution  of  Chemistry. 

tie  later  date  the  first  of  these  was  dropped  and  thencefor- 
ward, for  some  fifteen  hundred  years,  the  doctrine  of  the 
four  elements  dominated  philosophy.  When  we  critically 
examine  Aristotelianism  on  its  chemical  side,  we  discover 
that  abstract  principles  or  supposed  qualities,  and  not  things, 
were  by  its  advocates  deemed  the  actual  elements.  They 
took  all  extended  bodies  to  be  continuous  in  structure,  and 
thought  them  capable  of  becoming  anything  or  everything. 
We  see  this  in  the  language  of  the  founder  of  the  system 
when  he  tells  us  that  "  fire  is  hot  and  dry,  air  is  hot  and 
moist,  water  is  cold  and  moist,  and  earth  is  cold  and  dry." 
When  ordinary  water  is  boiled  away  to  dryness  an  earthy 
residue  is  found.  This  was  explained  as  the  heat  of  fire 
vanquishing  the  moist  of  water  and  leaving  the  dry  of  fire 
combined  with  the  cold  of  water.  Dry  and  cold  being  to 
them  earth,  of  course  a  residue  must,  by  their  logic,  be  ex- 
pected. The  establishment  of  alchemy  among  such  think- 
ers was  inevitable.  If  the  opposing  qualities  of  substances 
demolish  each  other  and  the  residual  ones  form  new  sub- 
stances, transmutation  is  a  necessity. 

The  word  Chemeia  (Chemistry)  first  occurs  in  a  Greek 
lexicon  of  the  eleventh  century.  The  definition  given  is 
"  the  preparation  of  gold  and  silver."  Such  indeed  we 
know  to  have  been  the  aim  of  early  chemists.  Later  on 
attention  was  directed  to  the  preparation  of  medicines. 
The  prefix  "  al  "  before  chemist  simply  means  "  the  " — i.  e., 
the  chemist.  It  is  the  Arabic  definite  article.  Alchemy 
was  a  natural  outgrowth  of  the  four-element  theory,  but 
the  necessity  of  experiments  engendered  by  it  was  fatal  to 
such  a  metaphysical  structure.  Where  abstractions  take  the 
place  of  facts  the  laboratory  should  be  excluded  as  danger- 
ous. For  their  unique  way  of  reasoning  about  how  gold 
could  be  made,  the  old  elements  failed  to  give  expected  re- 
sults. Not  suspecting  that  their  reasoning  might  be  at 
fault,  they  proceeded  to  hunt  for  new  elements  better  able 
to  match  their  logic.  Sulphur  was  found  by  combustion 
to  produce  fire  and  a  gas  which  they  took  to  be  air.  Be- 
sides, it  had  a  yellow  color,  a  quality  of  gold  which  the  old 
elements  lacked.  Mercury  had  the  fluidity  of  water  and 
likewise  possessed  the  quality  "  metal,"  a  condition  very 
much  needed  in  gold-making.  Salt  contained  all  the  quali- 
ties not  found  in  sulphur  and  mercury,  but  necessary  to 
form  a  world.  Thenceforth  sulphur,  mercury,  and  salt  took 
the  places  of  air,  fire,  earth,  and  water.  The  introduction 


The  Evolution  of  Chemistry.  127 

of  this  innovation  changed  somewhat  their  mental  attitude, 
leading  them  to  perceive  that,  instead  of  mere  qualities  flit- 
ting from  thing  to  thing,  material  transfers  had  some  part 
in  the  matter.  About  this  time  chemistry  was  known  as 
the  spagyric  art,  or  art  of  synthesis  and  analysis.  The 
chemical  behavior  of  sour  bodies  or  acids  to  acrid  bodies  or 
alkalies  was  shown  by  Sylvius  early  in  the  seventeenth  cen- 
tury. This  at  once  awakened  the  idea  of  chemical  attraction, 
and  at  a  little  later  date  that  of  elective  affinities.  Geoffrey 
tells  us  that  "  in  all  cases  where  two  substances  that  have 
any  disposition  to  combine  are  united,  if  there  approaches 
them  a  third,  which  has  more  affinity  with  one  of  the  two, 
this  one  unites  with  the  third  and  lets  go  the  other." 

Here  it  is  to  be  noted  that  abstract  qualities  are  not  re- 
ferred to,  and  only  the  behavior  of  substances  considered. 
About  this  time  Boyle  severely  criticised  the  three-element 
theory,  and  Beckner  and  Stahl  introduced  a  substitute  for 
sulphur  that  dethroned  it.  They  taught  that  all  inflammable 
substances  contained  within  them  an  element  the  escape  of 
which  was  the  cause  of  fire.  This  hypothetic  element  was 
called  phlogiston.  Bodies  that  would  not  burn  were  thought 
to  be  dephlogisticated.  In  this  theory  we  hear  the  last 
echo  of  metaphysical  chemistry  as  a  dominant  system. 
Phlogiston  was  the  logical  and  lineal  descendant  of  the 
god  of  fire.  To  destroy  this  was  to  subvert  all  ancient  pro- 
cesses of  reasoning  and  compel  men  to  gather  their  facts 
together  and  begin  again  to  build  de  novo.  Being  the 
masterpiece  of  centuries  of  thought,  it  was  not  to  be  ex- 
pected that  it  would  die  easily.  The  best  minds  were  wed- 
ded to  it,  and  the  very  men  who  forged  the  weapons  for  its 
destruction  refused  to  accept  the  results  of  their  own  work. 
In  1755  a  young  man  named  Black,  then  twenty-four  years 
of  age,  startled  the  scientific  world  by  a  graduation  thesis, 
the  topic  of  which  was  something  he  called  "fixed  air." 
At  a  little  later  date  this  gas  was  known  as  carbonic  acid. 
"When  writing  this  thesis  it  occurred  to  him  that  it  would 
not  be  a  bad  idea  to  weigh  the  materials  with  which  he  was 
dealing  experimentally  to  gain  his  data.  No  chemist  had 
ever  thought  of  doing  such  a  thing  before.  It  had  invari- 
ably been  taken  for  granted  that  as  qualities,  not  substances, 
were  altered,  it  made  little  or  no  difference  whether  creation 
and  annihilation  were  incessantly  going  on  or  not.  He  at 
once  proceeded  to  act  by  the  suggestion.  In  the  pivot  of 
that  pair  of  Scotch  scales  we  find  the  turning  point  be- 


128  The  Evolution  of  Chemistry. 

tween  scholastic  dogma  and  modern  verification.  The 
first  turn  under  that  young  man's  control  let  into  this 
world  most  of  the  blessings  and  comforts  of  our  modern  civili- 
zation. Little  did  he  dream  of  the  momentous  issues  that 
hung  on  his  work.  His  was  the  first 'quantitative  estimate 
ever  known  to  have  been  made  in  our  planet — the  first 
telling  proof  of  the  utter  worthlessness  of  purely  abstract 
reasoning.  He  followed  fixed  air  into  and  out  of  magnesia, 
limestone,  and  the  alkalies.  He  noted  the  changes  caused 
by  its  presence  and  absence.  He  saw  plainly  that  these 
changes  in  no  way  agreed  with  current  notions  about  the 
unions  and  vanquishments  of  qualities.  He  started  other 
able  men  to  work  in  the  same  field,  who  not  only  verified 
what  he  had  done,  but  extended  our  knowledge  in  the  same 
direction.  Priestley  soon  after  discovered  what  he  supposed 
was  "  dephlogisticated  air."  We  now  know  it  as  oxygen. 
Cavendish  found  that  Black's  fixed  air  was  a  union  of  char- 
coal and  Priestley's  new  gas,  and  that  water  was  a  union  of 
this  same  gas  and  another  combustible — one  then  called 
"  phlogisticated  air."  We  now  know  it  as  hydrogen.  La- 
voisier thought  he  saw  in  Priestley's  "  dephlogisticated  air  " 
the  cause  of  sourness  in  bodies,  and  so  he  called  it  oxygen  or 
"  acid  producer."  Sir  Humphry  Davy  at  a  later  date  dem- 
onstrated that  muriatic  acid  contains  no  oxygen,  although 
it  is  one  of  our  most  powerful  mineral  acids,  and  that  La- 
voisier was  therefore  in  error.  While  the  French  savant 
was  evidently  mistaken  in  this,  he  was  certainly  right  in  his 
solution  of  the  phenomena  of  combustion.  He  pointed  out 
the  fact  that  in  all  ordinary  combustion  we  have  the  union 
of  oxygen  with  some  body  having  an  affinity  therefor.  An 
appreciation  of  this  fact  put  an  end  to  the  phlogiston  theory, 
and  established  a  center  around  which  chemical  facts  could 
readily  crystallize.  And  yet  how  strange  it  even  now  seems ! 
That  the  "burning  of  wood  or  coal  and  the  rusting  of  iron 
should  be  phenomena  of  the  same  kind  seems  scarcely 
credible.  That  water  is  the  rust  of  hydrogen,  and  choke- 
damp  that  of  carbon,  is  wonderful.  The  heat  of  our  bodies, 
the  thoughts  of  our  brains,  the  movements  we  make,  hardly 
look,  to  the  uninitiated,  as  if  they  were  all  due  to  changes 
in  us  identical  in  kind  with  those  producing  iron  rust. 
Yet  such  is  the  fact,  and  the  knowledge  thereof  came  like 
bright  sunshine  into  the  chemical  world,  making  clear 
everything  where  before  was  darkness  and  ignorant  grop- 
ing. The  human  race  might  hunt  long  before  it  could  find 


The  Evolution  of  Chemistry.  129 

two  men  who  ever  were  greater  benefactors  than  Priestley 
and  Lavoisier.  What  was  their  meed  for  the  good  they 
did  ?  Did  they  form  a  Bell-Berliner-Edison  combine  and 
mount  into  fortunes  therefrom  ?  Did  their  respective  Govern- 
ments shower  favors  on  their  heads  ?  No !  Priestley's  the- 
ology being  distasteful  to  his  neighbors,  they  made  a  bon- 
fire of  his  home,  his  library,  and  his  laboratory,  and  com- 
pelled him  to  seek  peace  by  leaving  England  and  fleeing 
to  America.  Lavoisier  was  unlucky  enough  to  have  been 
born  rich,  and  the  freethinking,  communistic  cranks  who 
rode  into  power  by  the  French  Devolution  could  not  stand 
a  crime  so  hideous,  and  so  they  cut  his  head  off  with  the 
guillotine. 

With  the  advent  of  Lavoisier's  theory  came  a  revolution 
in  chemical  nomenclature.  Up  to  this  time  names  were 
given  to  substances  in  the  most  arbitrary  manner.  Erratic, 
fanciful,  and  unsystematic  titles  were  the  rule.  After  this 
an  effort  was  made  to  make  the  title  tell  something  about 
the  structure  of  the  substance  bearing  it.  Bodies  that  de- 
fied the  chemist's  power  of  decomposition  usually  retained 
the  old  names,  but  such  as  were  found  to  be  compound  had 
their  names  made  to  fit  their  structures.  Direct  unions 
with  oxygen,  chlorine,  iodine,  and  the  like  were  called  ox- 
ides, chlorides,  or  iodides  of  the  substance  thus  uniting. 
Acids  bore  suffixes  that  indicated  the  relative  quantities  of 
oxygen  in  each,  as  sulphurous  and  sulphuric  acids.  Salts 
from  these  acids  were  called,  respectively,  sulphites  and  sul- 
phates. Improvement  has  gone  on  in  this  direction  ever 
since,  and  will  probably  keep  going  on  for  a  long  time  to  come. 

A  new  world  for  the  chemist  was  opened  up,  and  the 
close  of  the  eighteenth  century  was  as  fruitful  of  discovery 
in  this  department  of  knowledge  as  had  been  the  sixteenth 
century  in  geography.  Cavendish  introduced  the  pneu- 
matic trough,  Bergman  the  blowpipe,  and  Davy  the  electric 
battery,  as  instruments  of  investigation.  Wenzel,  Richter, 
and  Cavendish  showed  that  in  every  chemical  union  a  defi- 
nite weight  of  one  substance  is  necessary  to  saturate  a  given 
weight  of  another.  You  may  mix  substances  in  all  con- 
ceivable proportions,  but  they  never  chemically  unite  except 
in  certain  definite  proportions.  Any  excess  beyond  the 
weight  Nature  fixes  is  simply  left  over  unchanged.  Dalton, 
however,  found  that  if  sixteen  ounces  of  one  of  the  ingre- 
dients made  perfect  saturation  and  there  happened  to  be 
two  compounds  with  the  same  ingredients,  the  second  com- 
10 


130  The  Evolution  of  Chemistry. 

pound  would  be  apt  to  require  thirty-two  ounces  to  com- 
plete the  second  form  of  saturation.  The  amount  of  the 
substance  to  be  saturated  would  be  the  same  in  both  cases. 
Where  there  were  three  such,  the  third  would  require  three 
times  sixteen,  or  forty-eight  ounces.  The  unions  in  every 
chemical  bond  were  found  to  be  in  definite  and  multiple 
proportions.  On  looking  around  for  an  explanation  of  this 
curious  fact,  he  found  himself  compelled  to  adopt  the  idea 
that  every  body  is  composed  of  a  great  number  of  like  dis- 
crete parts,  and  that  all  these  parts  in  the  same  substance 
have  the  same  size  and  weight.  A  solid  body  is  thus  con- 
ceived to  be  like  an  army  of  soldiers,  where  weight  and 
height  are  regulated  by  statute.  Supposing  the  army  con- 
tains two  thousand,  and  an  army  of  amazons  comes  along 
of  the  same  number.  If  every  soldier  marries  an  amazon 
we  are  thus  able  to  see  why  a  given  weight  of  male  army 
always  matches  a  corresponding,  though  perhaps  lower, 
weight  of  the  female  one.  The  weight  of  the  army  is  the 
sum  of  the  weight  of  its  individual  units.  If  every  amazon 
has  a  mother  with  her  or  every  soldier  a  father  with  him, 
then  every  one  of  one  side  will  take  two  of  the  other.  In 
such  a  case,  double  the  weight  of  one  side  would  be  needed 
and  multiple  proportions  shown.  If  every  soldier  took  into 
the  union  a  father  and  a  brother,  then  three  times  the 
weight  of  male  army  would  be  needed  to  supply  one  weight 
of  amazon.  Dalton's  explanation  is  called  the  atomic  theory, 
and  the  ultimate  parts  of  a  substance  bear  the  name  "  atom." 
Two  thousand  five  hundred  years  ago  Leucippos  undertook 
to  explain  facts  then  known  by  a  somewhat  similar  theory. 
In  450  B.  c.  Democritus  renewed  the  same,  while  still  later 
Epicurus  gave  it  a  fuller  development.  The  Epicurean 
philosophy  was  set  forth  by  Lucretius  in  a  poem  written  a 
little  over  half  a  century  before  Christ.  The  Epicureans 
were  bitterly  opposed  to  the  school  of  Aristotle,  but  during 
the  dark  ages  they  were  practically  annihilated  by  the  fol- 
lowers of  the  latter.  In  1592  Gassendi  undertook  to  re- 
habilitate the  atomic  theory,  but  failed  to  gain  a  following. 
Sir  Isaac  Newton  saw  in  the  atomic  theory  a  possible  ex- 
planation of  gravity.  From  Newton  to  Dalton  nothing  was 
done  to  advance  this  hypothesis. 

Either  matter  is  continuous,  as  it  seems  to  be  to  carnal 
sense,  or  else  it  is  discrete  and  therefore  atomic.  There  is 
no  third  alternative.  The  followers  of  Aristotle  chose  one 
side  and  those  of  Epicurus  the  other.  One  must  be  right. 


The  Evolution  of  Chemistry.  131 

Dalton  shows  us  that  Aristotle  is  wrong,  so  Epicurus  must 
be  right.  The  crucial^ test  lay  in  the  law  of  definite  and 
multiple  proportions  which  the  ancients  knew  nothing  about. 
Every  discovery  since  made  has  confirmed  the  idea.  No 
one  has  been  able  to  advance  an  alternative  hypothesis  that 
could  face  the  facts.  Occasionally  we  hear  of  some  chemi- 
cal Eev.  Mr.  Jasper  who  tells  his  class  that  although  he 
teaches  the  atomic  theory,  he  does  not  believe  it.  Some  far- 
reaching  teleological  speculation  that  he  is  ashamed  to  pub- 
lish dominates  his  thoughts.  Some  spook  of  the  imagina- 
tion answering  to  no  facts  of  experience,  but  maintaining 
the  continuity  of  his  heritage  of  superstition,  prompts  the 
utterance.  For  modern  chemistry  the  atomic  theory  is  the 
only  satisfactory  one.  Of  course  the  atoms  are  not  believed 
to  be  the  "  uncuttable  "  things  of  Democritus.  They  are 
minute,  organized  bodies  of  some  kind,  having  as  real  an 
existence  in  the  world  of  fact  as  ourselves.  In  the  working 
out  of  Dalton's  idea  Berzelius  took  an  active  part,  but,  as 
both  confined  themselves  to  gravimetric  estimations,  con- 
firmation from  a  new  standpoint  was  reserved  for  Gay-Lus- 
sac.  His  volumetric  study  of  gases  revealed  the  fact  that 
they  invariably  unite  in  definite  and  multiple  volumes.  A 
cubic  foot  of  chlorine  unites  with  a  cubic  foot  of  hydrogen 
only.  A  cubic  foot  of  oxygen  unites  with  two  cubic  feet  of 
hydrogen.  Sir  Humphry  Davy  assisted  him  in  this  inves- 
tigation. 

In  1811  Avogadro  declared  that  equal  volumes  of  any  two 
or  more  gases  under  the  same  temperature  and  pressure  con- 
tain the  same  number  of  molecules.  All  gases  were  found 
by  him  to  contract  or  expand  in  the  same  degree  for  the 
same  subtractions  or  additions  of  pressure  or  temperature. 
No  other  hypothesis  than  this  one  of  Avogadro's  has  been 
advanced  to  explain  why  gases  behave  as  they  do.  No  other 
is  needed,  as  this  matches  the  facts  accurately.  That  gases 
are  discrete  is  proved  by  the  fact  that  a  volume  of  a  heavy 
and  light  gas  when  mixed  does  not  make  two  volumes.  The 
one  occupies  the  interspaces  of  the  other,  which  it  could  not 
do  if  they  were  continuous.  This  discovery  of  Avogadro's 
came  before  chemists  were  prepared  to  receive  it.  The  dis- 
tinction which  he  made  between  an  atom  and  a  molecule 
sorely  puzzled  his  contemporaries.  They  did  not  see  that 
his  molecule  was  a  family  of  atoms.  It  is  a  moving,  com- 
pound unit  capable  of  chemical  decomposition  into  several 
atoms.  His  law  was  only  true  of  molecules  and  not  of 


132  The  Evolution  of  Chemistry. 

atoms ;  yet  they  persistently  confounded  the  two  and  tried 
to  show  him  and  his  followers  how  ridiculous  it  was  as  ap- 
plied to  atoms.  Even  Berzelius  made  fun  of  it,  saying  that 
it  undertook  to  split  atoms.  One  volume  of  chlorine  and 
one  of  hydrogen  forms  two  volumes  of  muriatic  acid.  If 
the  chlorine  or  hydrogen  exists  as  free  atoms  (and  they 
thought  they  did),  then  to  form  two  volumes  the  atoms  must 
be  split.  Later  facts  supported  Avogadro  and  showed  that 
both  hydrogen  and  chlorine  as  found  free  went  in  pairs,  or 
molecules  of  two  atoms.  After  nearly  fifty  years  of  idleness 
the  law  was  accepted,  and  our  latest  new  chemistry  is  found- 
ed thereon.  Since  its  acceptance  progress  has  been  marvel- 
ous. Discoveries  by  the  million  have  jostled  each  other  for 
public  recognition,  not  one  of  which  would  probably  ever 
have  been  made  but  for  it.  It  has  enabled  us  to  weigh  the 
atoms,  to  follow  them  through  their  complex  blendings  in 
organic  bodies,  and  to  understand  something  of  the  magic 
of  biology.  It  has  even  given  us  some  cues  as  to  the  pos- 
sible inner  structure  of  these  so-called  atoms  of  ours,  and 
points  out  their  probable  evolutionary  derivation.  In  this 
way  it  has  been  the  indirect  means  of  showing  us  that  abso- 
lutely elementary  bodies  are  unknown  to  us.  We  have  over 
sixty  substances  which  we  call  elements,  but  it  is  doubtful 
whether  a  single  chemist  can  be  f ound  who  believes  any 
one  of  them  to  be  primordial.  "We  take  sugar  and  pull  its 
molecules  asunder.  It  ceases  to  be  sugar  and  becomes  char- 
coal, oxygen,  and  hydrogen.  "We  try  to  pull  these  three 
apart  in  a  similar  manner,  but  fail.  Because  we  fail,  and 
for  no  other  reason,  we  call  them  elements.  To-morrow 
some  one  may  find  a  way  of  decomposing  charcoal,  and  for 
ever  after  it  will  cease  to  be  classed  as  an  element.  These 
three  substances — carbon  (charcoal),  oxygen,  and  hydrogen 
— are  known  to  make  bodies  of  the  most  unlike  qualities. 
They  assume  all  the  colors  of  the  rainbow,  all  the  tastes  im- 
aginable, and  odors  without  end.  Vinegar  and  sugar,  whis- 
ky and  pepper,  aloes  and  butter,  are  only  a  few  of  their  pro- 
tean forms.  The  ancients  classed  gold  and  silver  as  com- 
pounds, but  with  us  they  are  elements.  They  called  water 
an  element,  and  we  know  it  to  be  a  compound.  Sulphur 
and  mercury  we  still  call  elements,  but  our  reason  for  apply- 
ing this  name  to  them  is  totally  different  from  theirs. 

"With  the  advent  of  the  atomic  theory  of  Dalton  came  an 
effort  to  discover  the  relative  weights  of  the  ultimate  parti- 
cles of  all  undecomposable  bodies.  Of  course  they  had  to 


The  Evolution  of  Chemistry.  133 

take  one  element  as  a  standard  of  reference  for  the  rest. 
Oxygen  was  chosen  by  some  and  hydrogen  by  others,  while 
some  scattering  chemists  tried  plans  of  their  own.  It  was 
finally  seen  that  the  lightest  element  of  all  should  be  chosen 
for  a  standard,  while  the  rest  were  adjusted  in  relation  to 
it.  Hydrogen,  being  the  lightest,  became  the  standard  of 
reference.  When  oxygen  is  said  to  weigh  sixteen,  the  mean- 
ing is  that  it  is  sixteen  times  as  heavy  as  hydrogen.  When 
sulphur  is  placed  at  thirty-two,  we  are  to  understand  that 
that  substance  has  an  atom  thirty-two  times  the  weight  of 
an  atom  of  hydrogen.  In  early  determinations  only  rough 
approximations  were  made  toward  the  true  figures  and,  be- 
fore the  acceptance  of  Avogadro's  law,  figures,  were  often 
chosen  that  were  not  true  atomic  weights  but  only  ratios 
thereof.  In  water  they  found  eight  times  more  weight  of 
oxygen  than  hydrogen,  and  so  the  heavier  element  was  put 
down  as  u  eight"  ATOgadro  showed  that  since  it  took  two 
volumes  of  hydrogen  to  saturate  one  of  oxygen  in  forming 
water,  therefore  there  must  be  two  atoms  of  hydrogen 
to  one  of  oxygen.  This  lowered  the  comparative  weight  of 
hydrogen  one  half,  so  that  oxygen  had  to  be  called  sixteen 
instead  of  eight  Many  changes  of  this  kind  had  to  be  in- 
troduced. The  old  formula  for  water  was  HO,  but  the  new 
one  is  H,0.  In  the  first  the  relationship  was  as  one  to 
eight,  but  in  the  second  it  is  two  to  sixteen.  In  writing 
chemical  formulae  the  letters  stand  for  atoms  of  the  ele- 
ments, H  means  one  atom  of  hydrogen.  H,  means  two 
atoms  of  hydrogen.  H80  means  one  molecule  of  water  con- 
taining two  atoms  of  hydrogen  and  one  of  oxygen.  5H80 
would  mean  five  molecules  of  water.  The  study  of  the  laws 
of  heat  that  was  going  onparipassu  with  the  development 
of  chemistry  led  Bulong  and  Petit  in  1819  to  make  a  very 
remarkable  discovery.  When  bodies  are  wanned  it  is  found 
that  the  amount  of  heat  required  to  raise  them  one  degree 
varies  very  materially  among  them.  Taking  water  as  unity 
and  calculating  the  relation  for  other  substances,  we  get 
what  is  called  their  specific  heat  These  physicists  found 
that  for  thirteen  elements  which  they  had  tried,  the  specific 
heats  were  inversely  proportional  to  their  atomic  weights. 
This  meant  directly  proportional  to  the  number  of  atoms 
present.  Here  then  was  a  new  means  of  determining  atomic 
weights  confirmatory  and  supplementary  to  the  law  of 
Avogadro.  Although  later  investigations  showed  limiting 
conditions  to  the  law,  it  has  been  successfully  used  in  settling 


134  The  Evolution  of  Chemistry. 

disputed  points  between  various  ratios  as  to  which  is  the 
true  atomic  weight,  and  in  determining  atomic  weights  not 
otherwise  ascertainable.  In  1821  Mitscherlich  pointed  out  a 
law  of  crystallography  that  has  been  used  as  a  third  method 
of  determining  atomic  weights.  It  has  been  found  that,  as 
a  rule,  the  similar  combination  of  atoms  without  regard  to 
their  chemical  natures  gives  crystals  of  similar  forms.  When 
crystals  isomeric  in  form  but  different  in  composition  occur, 
they  are  pretty  certain  to  be  built  up  of  molecules  in  which 
the  atoms  are  grouped  alike.  Knowing  this  fact,  we  can 
know  the  number  of  atoms  in  an  unknown  group  by  com- 
paring it  with  a  known,  and  if  all  the  atoms  in  the  group 
but  one  have  had  their  weights  determined,  that  one  is 
easily  calculated.  Therefore  we  have  in  this  method  a 
means  of  confirming  results  gained  by  other  methods.  A 
fourth  method  has  lately  been  devised,  and  is  known  as  the 
periodic  law.  It  was  first  presented  a  few  years  ago  by  a 
Kussian  chemist  called  Mendelejeff.  According  to  this  law, 
all  the  leading  properties  of  an  element  are  functions  of  its 
atomic  weight.  Given  the  atomic  weight  of  any  element 
and  its  place  upon  a  spirally  ascending  expanding  curve, 
distance  being  arranged  proportional  to  weight,  and  its 
chief  properties  may  at  once  be  predicted.  Of  course  it 
follows  that  the  reverse  is  true.  Given  the  properties  of  the 
element,  and  the  atomic  weight  can  be  approximated  from 
the  place  where  it  belongs  on  the  spiral.  If  the  whole 
series  is  bisected  from  top  to  bottom,  paramagnetic  elements 
will  all  be  found  in  one  half  and  diamagnetic  in  the  other. 
All  related  groups  like  chlorine,  bromine,  and  iodine  will  be 
found  almost  directly  one  above  the  other.  In  this  way 
every  element  takes  a  place  by  its  weight  that  answers  to  its 
leading  properties.  On  such  a  spiral  a  number  of  gaps  are 
found  where  undiscovered  elements  are  believed  to  belong. 
Soon  after  enunciating  the  law,  Mendelejeff  called  attention 
to  two  of  the  lower  gaps  then  existing,  and  described  the 
properties  of  the  elements  that  should  belong  there.  He 
called  the  hypothetic  elements  eka-aluminium  and  eka- 
boron.  Since  then  two  elements  possessing  properties 
similar  to  those  described  by  Mendelejeff  have  been  found 
and  named,  by  their  respective  discoverers,  gallium  and 
scandium. 

In  atomic  weights,  ease  of  reduction,  melting  points, 
specific  gravities,  power  of  oxidation,  ability  to  decompose 
water,  methods  of  being  attacked  by  acids  or  alkalies, 


The  Evolution  of  Chemistry.  135 

methods  of  crystallization  of  salts,  oxides  and  chlorides 
formed,  etc.,  the  hypothetic  and  real  elements  agree  exactly. 
The  predicted  atomic  weight  of  gallium  was  69  and  the 
found  weight  was  69.  The  predicted  atomic  weight  of 
scandium  was  44  and  the  found  weight  was  44.  In  the 
presence  of  such  facts  is  it  not  strange  that  there  are  in- 
telligent men  who  pretend  to  believe  that  atoms  are  as  un- 
real and  intangible  as  hobgoblins  and  fairies?  So  really 
physical,  indeed,  are  the  molecules  made  up  from  these 
atoms  that  Sir  William  Thomson  and  others  have  been  able 
to  calculate  their  approximate  weights  in  terms  of  fractions 
of  a  grain. 

No  one  can  carefully  study  the  periodic  law  of  Mendel- 
ejeff,  comparing  it  at  the  same  time  with  a  homologous 
series  and  its  heterologous  derivatives,  without  being  struck 
with  the  idea  that  the  atoms  are  products  of  evolution.  If 
all  the  properties  of  matter  are  simply  due  to  the  weight  of 
the  little  pieces  from  which  it  is  built  (and  so  the  law  de- 
clares), then  at  bottom  every  element  must  be  the  same. 
This  implication  is  confirmed  by  spectrum  analysis. 

Within  the  present  generation  Prof.  Bunsen  and  Prof. 
Kirchhoff,  of  Heidelberg,  Germany,  devised  a  plan  b}~  which 
the  composition  of  sun  and  stars  might  be  accurately  de- 
termined from  their  light.  The  instrument  used  is  made 
of  prisms  that  separate  the  different  colors  found  in  the 
beam  to  be  examined.  Certain  lines  of  colored  light  are 
given  forth  by  every  element,  and  a  knowledge  of  the  ap- 
pearance and  places  of  these  lines  enables  one  to  tell  just 
what  element  is  coloring  a  flame.  If  such  light  passes 
through  a  vapor  of  the  same  element  before  reaching  the 
prism,  dark  bars  appear  just  where  the  colored  lines  should 
have  been  that  belonged  to  that  element.  By  the  initiated 
the  bars  are  as  easily  read  as  the  colored  lines.  In  ordinary 
chemical  analysis  one  one-hundred-and-twentieth  of  a  grain 
approaches  very  nearly  the  lowest  limit  of  practical  determi- 
nation. The  spectroscope,  however,  is  so  sensitive  that  it 
can  tell  the  presence  of  a  substance  when  the  quantity  is 
nearly  two  million  times  less  than  this,  or  one  two-hundred- 
and-forty-millionth  of  a  grain. 

Very  soon  after  the  spectroscope  was  sufficiently  perfected 
for  practical  work  the  four  elements  ca?sium,  rubidium, 
thallium,  and  indium  were  discovered  by  its  aid.  The 
workers  knew  they  were  there  from  the  lines  they  gave,  al- 
though they  had  never  been  isolated.  The  use  of  this  in- 


136  The  Evolution  of  Chemistry. 

strument  by  astronomers  has  revealed  the  strange  fact  that 
the  number  of  elements  increases  with. the  progress  of  a 
nebula  toward  stardom.  Another  remarkable  fact  is  that  as 
the  numbers  do  increase  it  is  from  those  with  light  atomic 
weights  to  those  with  heavy  ones.  Who  would  have  thought 
a  century  ago  that  man  would  ever  be  able  to  analyze  the 
matter  stars  are  made  of?  To-day  it  is  an  accomplished 
fact,  and  the  revelation  given  teaches  us  that  what  we  call 
matter  is  a  product  of  something  unknown  and  indescriba- 
ble by  us.  That  from  which  matter  grew  must  have  been 
wholly  unlike  matter  as  we  know  it. 

Many  facts  seem  to  indicate  that  the  successive  steps  of 
integration  among  the  atoms  while  forming  followed  well- 
known  chemical  laws.  Lately,  however,  an  English  chemist 
named  Crookes  has  shown  that  it  is  possible  to  take  a  large 
mass  of  the  molecules  of  a  single  element,  and  by  successive 
sif tings  separate  them  into  two  classes  with  slight  shades  of 
difference  in  qualities.  Minute  fractional  differences  of  this 
kind  go  to  show  that  while  known  methods  of  chemical 
grouping  may  have  been  used  in  their  development,  yet 
there  is  some  different  law  at  work  from  any  as  yet  dis- 
covered. The  fact,  too,  that  Prout's  supposed  law  "has  not 
been  confirmed  by  the  most  careful  determinations  of  atomic 
weights,  points  the  same  way. 

While  many  of  the  heavier  elements  are  multiples  by 
whole  numbers  of  hydrogen,  most  of  them  do  not  seem  to 
be  so.  The  spectroscope  points  to  the  existence  in  the  sun 
of  an  element  lighter  than  hydrogen,  and  that  has  been 
called  helium.  If  this  or  a  lighter  element  still  has  been 
the  starting  point,  Prout's  law  may  yet  prove  to  be  true  for 
all  elements,  as  it  is  now  for  a  goodly  number.  It  would 
give  us  a  fractional  part  of  a  hydrogen  atom  as  point  of 
comparison. 

To  understand  the  bearings  of  this  hypothesis  of  Prout's 
on  evolution  it  is  necessary  to  know  something  about  how 
atoms  link  themselves  together  to  form  molecules  and  what 
compound  radicals  are.  During  the  development  of  the 
science  of  chemistry  this  branch  of  the  tree  has  borne  more 
fruit  than  any  other,  and  yet  it  is  the  one  that  pronounces 
most  emphatically  in  favor  of  the  physical  existence  of 
atoms  and  molecules  as  real  beings.  We  have  already  seen 
that  all  the  elements  bear  names,  and  that  one  letter  (or 
sometimes  two)  of  the  Latin  name  is  used  as  a  symbol.  Tne 
chemist  undertakes  to  group  on  paper  these  symbols  in  some 


The  Evolution  of  Chemistry.  137 

such  way  as  the  atoms  themselves  are  grouped  within  their 
molecules.  He  is  thus  able  to  foresee  possible  compounds 
not  y\3t  discovered  or  made,  and  gains  cues  concerning  the 
proper  method  whereby  to  discover  them.  In  constructing 
such  pictures,  or  "  graphic  formulas,"  as  they  are  designated, 
what  has  been  called  by  Hoffman  quantivalence  is  of  great 
importance.  Molecules  do  not,  like  the  deacon's  one-horse 
chaise,  go  to  pieces  all  at  once.  Their  bonds  of  union  are  of 
such  a  character  that  what  breaks  one  does  not  break  all.  By 
studying  the  way  they  break,  and  how  certain  elements  or 
groups  of  elements  may  be  substituted  for  each  other  within 
them,  valuable  information  concerning  their  structures  can 
be  obtained. 

In  no  chemical  change  has  hydrogen  ever  been  known  to 
fill  the  place  of  another  atom  with  more  than  a  single  atom 
of  itself.  There  are,  on  the  other  hand,  innumerable  cases 
of  other  elements  filling  the  place  of  two,  three,  and  four 
atoms  of  hydrogen  with  one  atom  of  itself.  If  hydrogen  be 
figured  as  having  but  one  bond  of  attraction,  then  such  ele- 
ments as  can  only  saturate  that  one  bond  are  with  hydrogen 
itself  called  monads.  An  element  that  ican  saturate  two 
bonds  of  hydrogen  or  replace  two  atoms  of  hydrogen  in  a 
compound  is  called  a  dyad.  One  that  represents  three  hy- 
drogen bonds,  a  triad.  Beyond  these  we  have  tetrads,  pen- 
tads, and  hexads.  Chlorine  saturates  but  one  bond  of  hy- 
drogen, and  is  therefore  a  monad.  One  volume  of  chlorine 
gas  unites  with  an  equal  volume  of  hydrogen  gas  to  form  a 
volume  of  muriatic  acid.  The  saturating  powers  of  chlorine 
and  hydrogen  atoms  are  seen  to  be  equal.  Using  some  of 
the  muriatic  acid  to  precipitate  a  solution  of  nitrate  of  silver 
as  chloride,  we  will  find  our  hydrogen  replace  the  silver  as 
its  equivalent,  and  our  chlorine  saturate  it.  Chlorine,  hy- 
drogen, and  silver  are  thus  shown  to  be  monads.  In  water 
we  find  that  it  takes  two  volumes  of  hydrogen  to  saturate 
one  of  oxygen.  When  the  oxygen  is  replaced  by  chlorine, 
we  find  that  two  volumes  of  chlorine  are  required  to  take  the 
place  of  one  of  oxygen.  This  proves  oxygen  to  be  a  dyad. 
If  we  take  oxide  of  zinc  and  act  upon  it  with  muriatic 
acid,  we  will  discover  that  two  equivalents  of  the  chlorine 
from  the  acid  are  needed  to  replace  the  one  of  oxygen,  and 
two  of  hydrogen  to  replace  the  one  of  zinc.  The  quantiva- 
lence of  oxygen  and  zinc  is  therefore  the  same.  They  are 
dyads.  In  this  way  all  the  elements  are  found  to  arrange 
themselves  in  separate  groups,  according  to  their  attractive 


138  The  Evolution  of  Chemistry. 

powers.  Hydrogen  and  the  other  monads  are  like  little 
magnets  having  a  single  pole  of  attraction.  Oxygen  and 
the  other  dyads  are  like  magnets  with  two  poles.  Nitrogen 
and  the  other  triads  are  like  triple-poled  magnets.  Carbon 
and  the  other  tetrads  are  like  crossed  magnets  with  four 
poles.  To  represent  these  facts  we  can  write  the  symbols 
with  strokes  drawn  from  them  representing  the  number  of 
bonds,  thus  : 

Cl-        -0-        XNX        -C-        H- 
\  i 

Saturating  these  bonds  with  hydrogen,  we  have  the  follow- 
ing symbols  of  common  substances  : 


Cl-H         H-O-H  N  II-C-H 


Muriatic  acid.       Water.         Ammonia.      Marsh  gas. 

As  oxygen  has  two  bonds  and  carbon  four,  we  can  take  two 
of  oxygen  and  they  will  satisfy  one  of  carbon.  Because  of 
these  bonds  the  elements  named  are  unable  to  exist  as  single, 
free  atoms.  Chlorine  is  not  found  as  Cl-  except  during  the 
brief  instant  of  a  change.  As  known  to  us  in  its  elemental 
condition  it  is  C1-C1,  or  C18.  The  same  is  true  of  most  ele- 
ments. Hydrogen  is  H-H,  or  H2,  and  oxygen  0-0,  or  08. 
The  last  named  exists  sometimes  as  ozone,  and  then  it  is 
^ 

0-0,  or  03.  Many  groups  of  atoms  cohere  through  multi- 
tudinous changes,  and  in  such  group  form  they  simulate 
more  or  less  perfectly  the  atoms  themselves.  Sulphuric 
acid  is  always  written  by  chemists  as  H2S04,  and  never  as 
SHg04.  The  -S04-  part  is  known  to  maintain  itself  intact 
through  many  changes,  and  to  act  like  a  dyad  element.  The 
two  hydrogen  atoms  leave  it  together  to"  let  a  dyad  metal 
take  their  places.  One  of  them  will  go  at  a  time  to  make 
room  for  a  monad  metal.  The  group  NH4-  acts  in  a  simi- 
lar manner  by  non-metals.  Two  such  groups  will  satisfy 
the  vacant  bonds  of  -S04-  just  as  readily  as  two  monad 
metals  or  one  dyad.  NH4-  differs  from  a  metal  in  that  we 
know  its  composition,  can  pull  it  asunder,  and  have  not  yet 
been  able  to  make  two  such  groups  intermarry.  -S04-  dif- 
fers from  a  non-metallic  element  in  the  same  manner.  In 
their  chemical  behavior  both  act  like  elements.  There  are 


The  Evolution  of  Chemistry.  139 

radicals,  however,  that  intermarry  just  as  the  elements  do. 
If  we  were  as  ignorant  of  their  structures  as  we  are  of  the 
structures  of  the  elements  we  would  certainly  take  them  to 
be  elements.  The  hydroxyl  group,  so  common  in  acids,  al- 
cohols, and  metallic  hydrates,  weds  with  its  own  counterpart 
in  peroxide  of  hydrogen.  The  cyanogen  group  does  the 
same  in  cyanogen  gas.  The  methyl  group  doubles  itself  in 
ethane  and  the  methyenyl  in  acetylene.  There  is  not  a  soli- 
tary feature  about  the  behavior  of  an  element  that  is  not  ex- 
actly repeated  in  these  compound  radicals.  This  coherence 
in  groups  of  more  or  less  permanence  is  what  makes  the  evo- 
lution of  chemistry  along  its  lines  of  present  greatest  discov- 
ery possible. 

If  complex  molecules  did  not  break  down  in  a  systematic 
manner  it  would  be  impossible  to  tell  how  they  were  put  to- 
gether. If  neither  atoms  nor  molecules  exist,  as  metaphys- 
ical speculators  would  have  us  believe,  it  is  pretty  nearly 
time  for  them  to  tell  us  what  it  is  that  acts  so  much  as  if 
they  did.  In  Dalton's  days  they  should  have  given  their 
theory  when  the  facts  were  few,  and  therefore  susceptible 
to  many  explanations.  If  they  had  no  explanation,  then 
how  can  they  ever  hope  to  have  one  now,  when  the  data  are  a 
millionf old  what  they  were  then  ?  When  we  further  perceive 
that  very  few  of  these  millions  of  facts  could  ever  have  been 
dreamed  of  or  known  without  picturing  Dalton's  atoms  as 
their  cause,  we  see  how  wild  and  silly  their  statements  are. 
The  whole  field  of  organic  chemistry  has  been  opened  up 
and  developed  because  of  our  belief  in  atoms.  Our  facts 
were  discovered  and  are  now  held  together  by  this  hypoth- 
esis. Remove  it,  and  they  drop  apart  like  a  rope  of  sand, 
with  not  even  an  explanation  of  how  we  ever  discovered 
them.  At  the  beginning  of  this  century  everybody  held  to 
the  vital-principle  theory  of  organic  substances.  It  was 
counted  absurd  to  imagine  for  a  moment  that  organic  ma- 
terials could  ever  be  synthetically  produced.  Wonler,  sixty 
years  ago,  began  the  work  of  discovery  in  this  field.  From 
the  synthesis  of  urea  to  the  synthesis  of  cocaine  is  a  long 
stretch  through  a  mazy  labyrinth  manifoldly  more  complex 
and  obscure  than  that  in  which  Ariadne's  thread  was  sup- 
posed to  have  been  used.  Dalton's  thread  has  guided  chem- 
istry. 

In  1827  Gmelin  was  writing  a  book  on  organic  chemis- 
try. This  was  only  at  the  beginning — the  first  shower,  so  to 
speak — of  the  deluge  of  facts  that  is  now  pouring  in  upon 


140  The  Evolution  of 

us.  He  begged  the  chemists  to  stay  their  researches  for  a 
little  while  that  he  might  get  a  chance  to  complete  his  book. 
But  they  did  not  stop  ;  and  now  if  Leopold  Gmelin  were  alive 
he  would  find  it  not  only  impossible  to  finish  such  a  book, 
but  almost  impossible  to  write  down  the  facts  as  rapidly  as 
discovered.  No  mortal  now  lives  Avho  can  master  all  the 
minute  particulars  of  organic  chemistry.  The  only  way  to 
keep  abreast  of  the  times  is  to  learn  the  principles  of  these 
facts.  They  are  all  principles  of  the  actions  and  inter- 
actions of  atoms.  The  way  the  carbon  compounds  are 
chained  together  enables  the  forgetful  chemist  with  a  mini- 
mum of  effort  to  recall  forgotten  formulas.  For  instance, 
having  forgotten  the  formula  of  alcohol,  he  can  readily  re- 

construct it  thus  :  To  four-bonded  carbon  (-C-)   he  adds 

H  ' 
four  hydrogen  atoms,  forming  methane  (H-C-H),twomole- 

ik 

cules  of  which  being  united,  after  releasing  a  bond  in 


each,  gives  ethane  (H-C-C-H),  and  finally  adding  hydroxyl 

Hlk 
(H-0-),  after  removing  a  terminal  hydrogen,  we  get  ethyl 

hydrate  or  alcohol  (H-C-C-0-H).     The  points  to  remem- 

HH 

ber  are  that  it  is  a  hydrate  and  the  second  of  the  series. 
Let  an  atom  of  oxygen  replace  two  hydrogens  in  alcohol, 

55 

and  we  have  acetic  acid  (H-C-C-0-H).     From  marsh  gas 

H 

through  kerosene  oil  and  vaseline  to  paraffin  or  min- 
eral wax  we  have  hundreds  .of  substances  that  only  differ 
from  each  other  in  an  additional  =CH2  group  to  ethane 

55  tiHH  333? 

(H-C-C-H,then  H-C-C-C-H,  then  H-C-C-C-C-H,  etc.). 

i  A  H  H  H  HHHli 

Their  hydrates  give  many  alcohols,  and  the  acids,  as  well 
as  other  substances  that  can  be  formed  along  the  same  line, 


The  Evolution  of  Chemistry.  141 

are  multitudinous.  Eecalling  how  far  up  the  line  any  one 
of  them  may  happen  to  be  enables  the  chemist  to  at  once 
reconstruct  the  formula. 

The  groupings  are  not  all  so  simple  as  in  this  series. 
Some  are  bound  in  complex  rings  instead  of  chains.  These 
are  the  most  promising  for  progress  and  most  interesting 
for  science  of  any.  In  1865  Kekule  discovered  that  ben- 
zine had  its  atoms  so  connected.  This  was  the  first  known 
to  have  such  a  structure.  Just  before  this,  coal-tar  had  be- 
come an  object  of  intense  interest.  The  brilliant  anilines 
had  begun  to  be  made,  and  the  search  for  more  had  led  to 
Kekule's  investigations.  What  a  triumph  of  chemistry 
this  was !  From  dirty,  black  coal-tar  came  the  many  hues 
and  shades  now  deemed  so  necessary  for  the  adornment  of 
our  ladies.  The  gaudy  array  of  colors  in  every  dry-goods 
and  millinery  display  window  attests  the  commercial  worth 
of  such  studies.  Those  ribbons,  threads,  silks,  flowers,  and 
feathers  constitute  a  much  more  substantial  iridescence  than 
that  of  any  dream. 

About  forty  years  ago  a  Scotch  chemist,  called  Andprson, 
with  most  commendable  heroism  began  the  study  of  sludge 
oil.  A  more  obnoxious  task  can  scarcely  be  conceived.  No 
financial  considerations  inspired  him.  He  wrought  for  sci- 
ence, pure  and  simple,  little  dreaming  of  the  rich  lead  he 
was  opening  up  for  coming  generations.  He  distilled  two 
hundred  and  fifty  gallons,  the  sickening  stench  from  which 
cost  him  many  a  meal.  The  outcome  of  that  task  for  sev- 
eral years  seemed  totally  valueless,  and  might  have  remained 
so  if  a  countryman  of  his  own  had  not  taken  up  the  same 
investigation  where  he  left  off.  This  resulted  in  the  syn- 
thesis of  pyridine,  the  basic  group  of  many,  and  probably 
all,  of  the  alkaloids.  It  placed  us  on  the  route  to  quinine, 
morphine,  atropine,  and  cocaine,  with  most  other  active 
medicinal  agents  of  plants,  as  well  as  the  ptomaines  and  leu- 
comaines  of  animals.  It  seems,  too,  to  be  the  direct  line  to 
protoplasm  itself.  While  Anderson  and  his  immediate  suc- 
cessors in  the  work  gained  scarcely  honor  for  what  they  did, 
others  have  since  reaped  their  harvest  and  made  millions  of 
dollars.  Still  others,  yet  to  come,  are  bound  to  make  mill- 
ions more.  The  gain  to  the  race  of  such  work  is  incal- 
culable. 

A  list  of  all  the  valuable  additions  made  by  synthetic 
chemistry  within  a  score  of  years  would  occupy  more  time 
to  read  than  could  possibly  be  given  in  this  lecture.  To 


142  The  Evolution  of  Chemistry. 

afford  some  idea  of  the  subject  let  us  scan  rapidly  a  few  of 
the  most  important.  Thousands  of  acres  of  land  at  one 
time  were  occupied  in  the  growth  of  madder  and  indigo. 
This  is  nearly  all  relieved  now  for  grain  and  other  crops. 
These  dye-stuffs  no  longer  come  from  their  respective 
plants,  but  are  produced  by  the  chemist  in  his  laboratory, 
adding  materially  to  the  world's  wealth.  Cocaine,  the  alka- 
loid that  enables  surgeons  to  painlessly  cut  into  the  most 
sensitive  parts  of  the  body,  is  now  built  up  from  what  might 
be  waste  products  in  its  extraction  from  Erythroxylon  coca. 
Oil  of  wintergreen,  so  useful  for  flavoring  candies  and  soda- 
water,  as  well  as  for  relieving  rheumatism,  is  no  longer  pro- 
duced from  either  wintergreen  or  sweet  birch  to  the  extent 
it  once  was,  but  is  synthetically  prepared  by  the  chemist. 
Musk,  the  well-known  costly  perfume  and  flavoring  ingre- 
dient of  candies,  is  likewise  being  made  at  lower  rates  by  the 
chemist.  Bitter  oil  of  almonds,  another  flavoring  substance 
and  constituent  of  perfumery,  the  chemist  makes.  Cuma- 
rine,  the  flavoring  ingredient  of  Tonka  beans,  which  is  so 
often  used  as  a  substitute  for  vanilla,  is  likewise  synthetic- 
ally prepared.  Vanilline,  the  rich  flavoring  ingredient  of 
vanilla  and  constituent  of  some  perfumes,  is  now  made  in 
the  temperate  zone  independent  of  the  family  Orchidacece. 
Saccharine,  a  substance  two  hundred  and  eighty  times 
sweeter  than  sugar,  and  saccharine  amide,  a  related  com- 
pound said  to  be  sweeter  still,  are  products  of  the  laboratory 
that  beat  those  of  unassisted  Nature.  Antipyrine,  phenace- 
tine,  exalgine,  acetanilide,  and  resorcin  are  products  of  the 
laboratory  pure  and  simple  that  in  many  ways  excel  as  cura- 
tive agents  any  product  of  the  vegetable  world,  in  spite  of 
the  Scripture  statement  that  "  the  leaves  of  the  trees  are 
for  the  healing  of  the  nations."  These  relieve  the  most 
excruciating  pains,  check  profuse  haemorrhages,  reduce 
fevers,  quiet  unrest,  relieve  nausea,  and  stop  the  nervous, 
irritating  cough  of  pertussis  (whooping-cough).  Paralde- 
hyde,  somnal,  hypnal,  hypnone,  chloral-amide,  and  many 
other  new  substances  are  produced  in  the  laboratory  to 
bring  sweet,  refreshing  sleep  to  delirious  and  fever-excited 
brains. 

The  number  of  antiseptics  for  external  and  internal  use 
is  large  and  constantly  being  multiplied  by  the  busy  chem- 
ist. One  of  them,  called  salol,  can  pass  the  stomach  un- 
changed and  arrest  inflammatory  processes  below  the  duo- 
denum. Fluoresceine  has  no  rival  in  the  vegetable  world, 


The  Evolution  of  Chemistry.  143 

as  it  alone  is  able  to  stain  diseased  tissue  in  the  eye  and 
leave  the  healthy  tissue  untouched.  But  why  give  more  ? 
Their  name  is  almost  legion,  and  more  are  coming. 

Within  this  same  time  new  processes  have  been  devised 
for  producing  on  a  larger  scale  and  at  cheaper  rates  such 
common  substances  as  soda,  chloroform,  salicylic  acid,  oxy- 
gen, nickel,  aluminium,  etc.  The  last-named  metal  is  now 
marketed  at  an  exceedingly  low  price  as  compared  with 
that  of  a  quarter  of  a  century  ago.  The  claim  has  lately 
been  put  forward  that  a  newer  process  has  been  devised  by 
which  it  can  be  produced  as  cheaply  as  iron.  If  this  proves 
true,  then  the  present  generation  is  about  to  see  the  most 
wonderful  industrial  revolution  that  has  occurred  since  man 
came  on  this  planet.  Such  a  discovery  would  be  apt  to  pro- 
duce greater  changes  than  did  railways,  telegraphs,  and  elec- 
tric lights  combined.  It  is  probably  too  good  news  to  be 
true,  and  chemists  generally  are  skeptical  upon  the  matter. 
Such  a  discovery  would  solve  the  problem  of  fire-proof,  rust- 
proof, and  almost  cyclone-proof  homes.  It  would  give  us 
finer,  cheaper,  and  swifter  railway-cars,  steam  and  other 
ships,  and  machinery.  It  would  probably  solve  the  problem 
of  aerial  navigation.  In  fact,  it  would  require  pages  to  give 
the  changes  it  would  introduce.  But  if  we  have  not  this, 
we  have  one  chemical  discovery  that  is  destined  to  do  great 
things  for  us  in  the  not  distant  future  as  it  becomes  more 
perfect  in  its  development. 

It  is  said  that  Sir  William  Thomson  was  asked  not  long 
ago  to  state  what  he  believed  to  be  the  discovery  of  greatest 
promise  to  the  race  that  has  been  made  within  the  present 
generation.  Pausing  long  enough  to  duly  weigh  the  ques- 
tion, he  replied  that  in  his  judgment  it  was  the  storage 
battery.  Here  we  have  bottled  lightning  that  can  run 
trains  and  all  forms  of  machinery  without  fire  or  smoke, 
furnace  or  boiler,  and  not  even  a  conducting  wire  to  disfig- 
ure the  landscape  or  endanger  life.  It  can  be  used  for 
heating  or  illuminating  as  well.  Its  invention  let  new  light 
into  philosophical  chemistrv  and  showed  us  that  the  attrac- 
tions of  our  atoms  are  probably  but  a  reversed  condition  of 
what  we  call  electrolysis.  Here  we  have  a  discovery  that 
belongs  equally  to  chemistry  and  physics,  as  it  lies  on  the 
boundary  line  of  both.  There  is  another  of  the  same  kind 
that  should  be  mentioned  here. 

For  a  long  time  chemists  have  believed  that  the  per- 
manent gases  might  by  a  sufficient  increase  of  pressure  and 


144  The  Evolution  of  Chemistry. 

reduction  of  temperature  be  brought  into  the  conditions  of 
liquid  or  solid.  About  thirteen  years  ago  the  most  stub- 
born gave  way  and  the  belief  was  verified.  The  air  we 
breathe  has  been  made  into  a  water-like  liquid  that  boils  at 
337°  F.  below  zero.  At  a  somewhat  lower  temperature  two 
liquids  with  different  specific  gravities  are  plainly  seen. 
The  one  floats  upon  the  surface  of  the  other.  Xitrogen, 
one  of  these  two,  has  been  frozen  into  crystals  like  snow 
The  lowest  temperature  that  has  yet  been  reached  in  ex- 
periments of  this  kind  is  373°  F.  below  zero,  and  the  highest 
pressure  used  was  upward  of  3,000  pounds  to  the  square 
inch.  Between  this  very  low  temperature  and  the  high 
ones  used  in  volatilizing  metals  a  wide  range  exists  within 
which  some  rather  startling  chemical  facts  have  appeared. 
Bodies  having  very  powerful  affinities  for  each  other  at  one 
temperature  may  have  none  at  another  higher  one,  while  at 
a  still  higher  the  original  affinity  is  restored.  Here,  as  else- 
where in  nature,  the  rhythm  of  motion  exerts  its  sway. 
This  is  particularly  apparent  in  chlorine  and  its  behavior 
toward  platinum.  Every  one  knows  how  sulphuric  acid 
and  ammonia  boil  and  splutter  the  instant  they  touch  each 
other,  yet  pure  liquefied  ammonia  at  a  low  temperature  will 
rest  on  the  surface  of  the  same  acid  as  peacefully  as  a  sleep- 
ing babe.  Chlorine  and  oxygen  in  the  liquid  state  can  not 
be  made  to  unite  with  bodies  that  at  normal  temperatures 
they  seize  upon  with  avidity.  Every  chemist  is  familiar 
with  reactions  that  are  only  possible  within  not  only  certain 
temperature  limits,  but  also  certain  degrees  of  dilution.  At 
one  time  it  was  supposed  that  most  chemical  changes  were 
immediate  and  direct.  Now  we  know  that  the  majority, 
and  possibly  all,  are  mediate  and  indirect.  It  is  coming  to 
be  the  belief  of  chemists  that  no  two  bodies  can  unite  with 
each  other  without  the  aid  of  a  third.  So  common  a  re- 
action as  the  burning  of  wood,  that  was  long  supposed  to 
be  merely  a  direct  union  of  oxygen  and  carbon,  is  now 
found  to  involve  a  number  of  hitherto  unsuspected  inter- 
mediate changes  in  which  water  and  peroxide  of  hydrogen 
take  a  part.  Pure  water  can  not  be  decomposed  by  elec- 
trolysis. An  acid  is  needed  in  the  matter.  The  action  of 
this  acid  and  that  of  all  such  go-between  chemical  bodies 
used  to  be  called  catalysis.  We  now  speak  of  it  as  contact 
action.  As  electricity  was  once  considered  a  rare  and  re- 
markable phenomenon  when  exhibited  after  the  rubbing  of 
a  piece  of  amber,  so  contact  action  was  long  believed  to  be 


The  Evolution  of  Chemistry.  145 

an  exceptional  process  in  nature.  But  electricity  is  now 
well-nigh  claiming  universal  domain  as  the  force  of  forces, 
and  so  old-fashioned  catalysis  seems  almost  bound  to  swallow 
up  all  chemical  activity.  The  number  of  substances  that 
unite  with  each  other  rapidly  when  third  bodies  are  present 
as  impurities  or  otherwise,  but  that  refuse  to  unite  in  a 
state  of  absolute  purity,  is  multiplying  daily.  As  to  how 
such  third  bodies  act  in  aiding  the  change  is  still  in  grave 
doubt  for  the  majority  of  such  cases,  but  has  been  pretty 
clearly  traced  in  a  few.  In  the  manufacture  of  sulphuric 
acid  from  sulphurous  anhydride,  nitric  acid,  though  acting 
as  a  go-between,  is  very  far  from  a  mere  passive  agent  in  the 
change.  During  the  molecular  dance  it  suffers  successive 
decompositions  and  recompositions,  always  ending  up  in  its 
original  state.  If  we  had  not  discovered  the  part  it  really 
plays  in  the  matter  it  would  be  registered  in  the  list  of 
catalytic  bodies. 

When  we  turn  to  the  organic  world  and  undertake  the 
study  of  physiological  chemistry  and  botany  we  find  contact 
action  at  every  turn.  Numerous  ferments  have  been  iso- 
lated and  studied  by  organic  chemists,  and  with  some  of 
them  there  can  be  little  doubt  that  they  act  by  successive 
decompositions  and  recompositions  of  themselves.  Much 
of  their  apparently  magical  power  depends  upon  their 
ability  to  decompose  water  at  normal  temperatures. 

Let  us  but  learn  how  to  isolate  such  substances  in  paying 
quantities  and  in  such  a  form  that  they  can  accomplish  the 
same  task  as  in  the  plant,  and  the  growth  in  knowledge  will 
be  marvelous  for  rapidity.  "We  have  known  several  organic 
ferments  for  a  good  many  years.  Pepsin  and  trypsin  are 
probably  the  two  with  which  we  are  most  familiar.  To 
solve  the  secret  of  their  composition  would  be  to  gain  a  key 
to  the  situation.  For  nearly  thirty  years  chemist  after 
chemist  has  been  baffled  in  attempting  to  do  so.  Not  a 
single  ray  of  light  has  been  thrown  upon  the  problem.  Un- 
til we  succeed  in  getting  them  in  a  pure  state  for  analysis, 
or  in  securing  some  decomposition  product  of  them  in  such 
a  state,  nothing  can  be  done.  A  very  faint  glimmer  was 
for  the  first  time  discovered  during  the  present  year  by  your 
essayist.  A  substance  was  isolated  from  pepsin  "that  bears  a 
constant  relationship  in  quantity  to  its  proteolytic  power. 
This  is  a  very  small  result  for  thirty  years  of  trial  by  scores 
of  chemists,  but  it  must  not  be  forgotten  that  the  problem 
is  a  big  one,  and  the  first  gleam  is  always  followed  before 
11 


146  The  Evolution  of  Chemistry. 

very  long  by  the  dawn.  A  complete  solution  of  this  prob- 
lem will  tell  us  in  terms  of  chemistry  the  cause  and  cure  of 
disease  and  the  conditions  of  life  and  health. 

So  simple-looking  a  substance  as  the  white  of  an  egg  is 
yet  a  most  stupendous  mystery  to  our  science.  It  and  all 
the  albuminoids  are  awaiting  this  very  light.  The  fever  and 
pain,  discomfort  and  delirium  of  disease  are  now  known  to 
be  due,  in  many  cases,  to  ptomaines  manufactured  by  bac- 
teria. They  are  believed  to  break  down  albuminous  sub- 
stances by  aid  of  the  ferments  they  secrete.  We  want  to 
know  the  nature  of  these  ferments.  Until  such  knowledge 
is  acquired  we  can  not  really  say  that  we  know  how  nitric  or 
acetic  acids,  and  all  the  nitrates  and  acetates,  are  made  as 
common  and  cheap  as  they  are.  Micro-organisms  produce 
them.  The  bread  problem  of  the  future  is  believed  to  carry 
its  solution  in  this  same  question. 

From  cellulose  to  starch  is  a  very  short  step,  but  we  can 
not  take  it  in  the  proper  way.  By  a  crude  process  long 
known,  sawdust  can  be  converted  into  an  exceedingly  coarse 
article  of  bread,  the  catalytic  body  being  sulphuric  acid. 
"We  await  the  discovery  of  the  proper  organic  contact  action 
body  to  do  perfectly  what  can  now  be  roughly  done.  The 
world  may  yet  see  deal  boards  transmuted  into  the  whitest 
kind  of  starch.  "We  can  and  do  now  change  starch  into  that 
kind  of  sugar  called  glucose.  Let  us  nest  find  how  to  make 
it  into  levulose,  and  then  discover  how  to  unite  these  two, 
and  we  will  have  cane  sugar.  Hundreds  of  chemists  have 
worked  at  this  problem.  The  man  lucky  enough  to  solve  it 
has  an  enormous  fortune  awaiting  him.  We  have  lately 
found  how  to  give  cane  sugar  the  flavor  of  maple  sugar,  so 
that,  should  the  maple  forests  give  out,  the  supply  of  that 
sweet  morsel  can  still  be  maintained. 

Among  the  many  problems  that  still  await  solution,  but 
that  lie  along  the  line  we  have  been  considering,  is  the  syn- 
thetic production  of  such  valuable  substances  as  India  rub- 
ber, cotton,  silk,  and  wool.  The  possibilities  of  organic 
chemistry  are  numberless,  and  many  of  them  may  never  be 
realized ;  but  we  have  already  the  sweet  consciousness  of  hav- 
ing mastered  more  than  enough  to  pay  for  the  disappoint- 
ment of  our  alchemical  predecessors  who  hoped  to  be  able 
to  convert  iron  into  gold.  But  their  dream,  wild  as  it  really 
was  at  that  time,  may  yet  become  an  established  fact.  Xo 
chemist  would  to-day  risk  his  professional  reputation  by 
asserting  it  an  impossible  feat.  Let  some  reliable  man  of 


The  Evolution  of  Chemistry.  147 

good  repute  in  this  department  of  science  assert  that  he  had 
made  such  a  discovery,  and  it  would  doubtlessly  raise  con- 
siderable skepticism,  but  that  would  be  all.  No  one  know- 
ing the  present  status  of  the  science  would  use  the  word 
"  impossible."  Seasoning  a  priori  on  the  subject,  we  would 
expect  that  the  cost  of  production  would  always  exceed  the 
value  of  the  product.  This  is  poor  encouragement  for  this 
line  of  investigation.  In  the  fields  hitherto  invaded  and 
conquered  the  reverse  has  been  true.  Substances  worth  less 
than  nothing — actually  having  a  negative  value  because  of 
being  incumbrances  that  it  cost  cash  to  remove — have  been 
and  are  being  made  into  goods  worth  many  millions  of  dol- 
lars. The  actual  facts,  when  stated  in  simple  language,  are 
more  wonderful  than  the  tales  of  the  Arabian  Nights. 
"  Yes ! "  some  one  answers,  "  and  the  names  found  in  the 
story  are  perhaps  quite  as  remarkable  as  any  in  that  vol- 
ume." This  is  very  true.  To  read  of  a  substance  that  has 
been  christened  methyl-ethyl-hydroxyl-tetra-hydro-pyridine- 
tropate  sounds  anything  but  musical  to  the  ears  of  non- 
chemists,  especially  when  they  learn  that  it  is  the  dangerous 
medical  poison  atropine.  Every  syllable  of  this  name  has  a 
meaning,  and  the  whole  tells  just  how  the  molecule  is  con- 
structed. To  say  that  rheumatic  pains  can  be  relieved  by 
oil  of  wintergreen  is  a  plain  statement  to  ordinary  mortals. 
Tell  him  such  relief  can  be  had  by  the  use  of  methyl-ortho- 
mono-hydroxyl-benzoate,  and  you  will  puzzle  him  sorely, 
though  the  things  are  the  same. 

In  this  hasty  and  necessarily  imperfect  review  of  the  de- 
velopment of  modern  chemistry  from  the  absurd  notions  of 
the  ancients,  it  will  be  observed  that  our  knowledge  has  in 
almost  every  particular  imitated  the  habits  of  the  atoms 
themselves.  When  Lavoisier  gave  us  a  true  theory  of  com- 
bustion, all  the  facts  had  up  to  that  time  been  subsisting  as 
isolated  units.  After  that  they  were  clustered  together  like 
a  molecule.  When  Daltcn  explained  definite  and  multiple 
proportions,  another  set  of  independent  facts  immediately 
cohered.  Next  came  the  generalizations  of  Mitscherlich, 
Hoffman,  Mendelejeff,  and  others,  each  gathering  into 
united  groups  its  own  special  data.  A  central  nucleus  for 
the  total  was  found  in  the  law  of  Avogadro.  As  the  atom 
facts  clustered  together  by  the  laws  of  lesser  scope,  so  the 
clusters  themselves,  like  so  many  compound  radicals,  gained 
bonds  of  mental  union  by  this  far-reaching  generalization. 
Our  chemical  knowledge,  therefore,  like  matter  itself,  began 


148  The  Evolution  of  Chemistry. 

indefinite  and  incoherent.  Illy  understood  facts  were  with- 
out bonds  of  union.  Growth  began  as  they  grouped  to- 
gether into  a  definite,  coherent  whole.  "With  such  growth 
came  complexity,  the  minor  laws  each  taking  the  part  of 
branches  to  a  common  tree.  Each  new  hypothesis  by  con- 
firmation brought  new  integrations,  and  dissipated  the  loose- 
ness of  thought  that  characterized  the  earlier  stages.  The 
growth  of  chemistry  is  thus  seen  to  be  a  typical  illustration 
of  the  law  of  evolution. 


The  Evolution  of  Chemistry.  149 


ABSTRACT  OF  THE   DISCUSSION. 

DR.  E.  H.  BARTLEY  : 

I  have  certainly  no  adverse  criticism  to  make  upon  the  lecture  of  the 
evening.  Dr.  Eccles  has,  it  seems  to  me,  been  remarkably  successful 
in  crowding  a  great  deal  of  accurate  information  into  a  very  little 
space.  In  the  brief  time  allotted  to  me,  I  can  only  call  attention  to  one 
or  two  points  in  connection  with  the  evolution  of  chemistry  which 
have  not  been  elaborated  by  the  lecturer.  If  we  examine  the  earliest 
records  of  chemical  investigation,  we  shall  note  the  lack  of  definite- 
ness  in  the  language  with  which  they  are  described,  as  compared  with 
the  clear,  accurate  form  of  our  modern  scientific  terminology.  The 
development  of  language  itself  has  gone  on  hand  in  hand  with  devel- 
opment in  science,  and  has  been  aided  and  stimulated  by  it.  Modern 
language  begins  and  ends  in  a  point :  is  terse,  lucid,  and  accurate.  It 
shows  the  same  tendency  toward  increased  coherency  and  integration 
that  appears  in  all  other  processes  of  evolution.  This  is  particularly 
true  of  the  language  of  science.  And  this  accuracy  of  descriptive  ter- 
minology is  an  essential  condition  of  the  progress  of  science.  By 
means  thereof,  new  discoveries  and  investigations  are  made  known  to 
other  investigators,  the  world  over,  almost  as  rapidly  as  they  are  ac- 
complished— thus  furnishing  the  clews  in  other  minds  for  yet  further 
advancement  in  scientific  knowledge.  In  the  same  direction  is  seen 
the  effect  of  the  admirable  work  of  artisans,  at  the  present  day,  in  the 
manufacture  of  chemical  apparatus.  Formerly  each  investigator  had 
to  make  his  own  apparatus,  often  in  a  very  rude  and  clumsy  way. 
Now  it  is  prepared  for  him,  and  most  perfectly  adapted  to  its  uses, 
thereby  greatly  assisting  discoveries  in  scientific  research,  and  consti- 
tuting a  most  important  element  in  the  evolution  of  science.  This  is 
true  of  all  the  practical  sciences,  and  specially  true  of  chemistry. 
Thus  we  see  illustrated  the  universal  law  of  evolution  :  the  tendency 
to  differentiation,  to  the  creation  of  separate  and  distinct  divisions  of 
labor,  accompanied  by  a  greater  coherence— a  more  perfect  co-operation 
of  all  in  the  advancement  of  knowledge  and  the  improvement  and 
unification  of  the  race. 

DR.  P.  H.  VAN  DER  WETDE  : 

I  have  been  astonished  at  the  amount  of  material  which  has  been 
crowded  into  the  lecture  this  evening.  As  an  historical  paper,  and  a 


150  The  Evolution  of  Chemistry. 

general  statement  of  present  tendencies  and  results  in  chemical  inves- 
tigation, it  leaves  nothing  to  be  desired.  I  can  only  call  attention  to 
the  remarkable  character  of  recent  laboratory  discoveries,  which  seem 
to  indicate  that  in  time  all  our  food  products  may  be  produced  directly, 
by  chemical  combinations,  from  the  inorganic  world,  instead  of  com- 
pelling us  to  rely,  as  at  present,  on  vegetable  and  animal  products  for 
the  sustenance  of  life.  There  has  also  been  great  progress  of  late  in 
the  field  of  biology.  The  old  notion  of  a  vital  force  has  given  way 
before  the  results  of  scientific  investigation.  That  which  was  formerly 
known  as  vital  force  and  supposed  to  indicate  a  direct,  creative  action 
in  the  production  of  organic  life  is  now  known  to  be  merely  the  result 
of  chemical  change. 

DR.  ECCLES  replied  briefly,  saying  that  vital  force  is  no  longer  be- 
lieved in  by  chemists.  The  field  of  chemistry  is  so  vast  that  no  one 
mind  can  grasp  it  all,  and  it  is  impossible  to  describe  its  conquests  in 
a  single  lecture. 


THE  EVOLUTION  OF 

ELECTRIC  AND   MAGNETIC 

PHYSICS 


ARTHUR  E.  KENNELLY 

CHIEF  ELECTRICIAN  OF  THE  EDISON  LABORATORY 


COLLATERAL  READINGS  SUGGESTED: 

Benjamin  Franklin's  Experiments  and  Observations  on  Electricity ; 
J.  J.  Fahie's  A  History  of  Electric  Telegraphy ;  Park  Benjamin's  The 
Age  of  Electricity;  Marvels  of  Electricity  and  Magnetism;  Bren- 
nan's  A  Popular  Exposition  of  Electricity ;  Lodge's  Modern  Views  of 
Electricity;  TyndalPs  Lectures  on  Electric  Phenomena,  Light  and 
Electricity,  and  Lessons  in  Electricity ;  Sir  William  Thomson's  Elec- 
tro-Statics and  Magnetism ;  Balfour  Stewart's  Electricity  and  Magnet- 
ism ;  Reid's  The  Telegraph  in  America ;  Prescott's  History,  Theory, 
and  Practice  of  the  Electric  Telegraph ;  Molloy's  The  Electric  Light 
and  the  Storing  of  Electric  Energy. 


THE  EVOLUTION  OF  ELECTRIC  AND 
MAGNETIC  PHYSICS. 

BY  ARTHUR  E.  KENXELLY. 

THE  subject  for  your  consideration  this  evening  is  one  of 
the  most  interesting  and  important  of  all  the  topics  which 
have  attracted  the  attention  of  the  modern  scientific  thinker. 

In  the  earliest  recorded  observations  of  electric  force  it 
appears  to  have  been  regarded  as  a  phase  or  mode  of  vital- 
ity. Thales  of  Miletus,  the  Greek  mathematician  whose 
home  was  on  the  woody  Asiatic  shore  of  the  -^Egean  Sea, 
twenty-five  hundred  years  ago,  noticing  that  amber  after 
being  rubbed  attracted  or  repelled  light  objects,  such  as 
down  or  lint,  is  said  to  have  attributed  the  property  to  some 
condition  of  life  resident  in  the  substance. 

The  centuries  that  have  intervened  have  smiled  upon  so 
superstitious  a  belief,  but  perhaps  when  futurity  shall  judge, 
the  thought,  under  a  different  interpretation,  may  not  seem 
so  far  astray;  for  to  us  of  to-day  vitality  is  stiirincompre- 
hensible,  and  the  very  nature  of  electricity  is  enveloped  in 
mystery ;  yet  we  know  that  whatever  nerve  force  may  be, 
it  "must  at  least  be  closely  associated  with  electric  force. 
Nerve-fibers  strangely  resemble  insulated  wires ;  electricity 
can  stimulate  them  into  an  involuntary  performance  of 
their  functions,  while  not  a  muscle  contracts  without  elec- 
trical manifestations,  if  care  only  be  taken  to  observe  them. 
Even  light,  it  would  seem,  falling  on  the  retina,  excites  elec- 
trical disturbances  through  the  optic  nerve,  and  it  is  possible, 
if  it  is  not  at  present  demonstrated,  that  electricity  may  be 
the  active  principle  in  the  processes  of  animal  vitality.  The 
relation  between  electricity  and  vitality  may  be  so  close  as 
to  amount  to  identity. 

For  twenty-two  centuries  after  this  first  announcement, 
electricity,  one  ever-present  phase  of  the  universal  activity, 
remained  not  absolutely  unnoticed,  but  unknown.  In  the 
saying  of  the  Greeks,  "  There  were  brave  men  before  Aga- 
memnon," but  not  even  the  violence  of  thunder  nor  the 
vivid  lightning-flash  can  announce  the  facts  of  an  all-envel- 
oping environment  to  human  intelligence  of  the  highest 
order  we  can  boast  until  the  progress  of  evolution  shall 


154    The  Evolution  of  Electric  and  Magnetic  Physics. 

have  prepared  the  human  mind  to  usher  and  reveal  the 
mysteries  of  Nature. 

The  renascent  dawn  of  the  scientific  era,  or  the  age  of 
objective  investigation — a  method  of  study  that  had  almost 
become  extinguished  with  the  ruin  of  Alexandria — threw 
open  the  pathways  of  physical  research  and  brought  the 
first  recognition  of  electricity  to  light.  The  commence- 
ment of  the  seventeenth  century  was  noted  for  its  discov- 
eries in  electric  and  magnetic  science.  Thales  lived  about 
six  hundred  years  before  Christ,  and  Dr.  Gilbert,  of  Col- 
chester, christened  and  presented  the  new  science  _  to  the 
world  in  his  celebrated  book  De  Magnete,  published  in  1600. 

The  early  history  of  magnetism  tells  a  similar  tale.  The 
attracting  power  of  the  loadstone  was  known  to  the  Greeks, 
and  the  knowledge  of  the  directive  property  of  the  suspend- 
ed needle  or  mariner's  compass  is  said  to  have  been  pos- 
sessed by  the  Chinese  long  before  the  Christian  era ;  but  the 
first  published  researches  in  the  subject  were  by  Norman 
and  Boroughs,  of  London,  in  1580.  Just  at  this  time  Fran- 
cis Bacon,  the  champion  of  experimental  science  and  in- 
ductive philosophy,  was  preparing  those  works  that  have 
made  his  name  immortal.  The  time  was  ripe  for  the  new 
thought,  for  human  intelligence  at  length  stood  ready  to 
burst  through  the  trammels  that  inthralled  it,  and  to  vin- 
dicate its  prerogative  to  judge  according  to  evidence. 

Slowly,  and  against  much  opposition,  experimental  physics 
developed  the  sciences  of  magnetism  and  electricity.  For 
two  hundred  years  the  two  sciences  stood  entirely  apart ; 
their  intimate  relationship  was  perhaps  only  suggested  in 
the  poet's  fancy,  nor  was  it  scientifically  demonstrated  till 
1820.  Even  at  the  present  moment,  intimate  though  we 
recognize  that  relationship  to  be,  the  line  that  separates  and 
the  tie  that  unites  them  are  still  matters  of  speculation  that 
the  future  must  resolve. 

The  earlier  progress  was  shown  by  electricity.  Von  Gue- 
ricke,  in  1672,  made  the  first  electrical  machine  out  of  a 
globe  of  sulphur  rotated  by  hand,  and  produced  with  it  the 
first  artificial  electric  spark.  The  sound  accompanying  the 
spark  was  also  noticed  by  von  Guericke.  Newton  three 
years  later  improved  upon  this  machine  by  substituting  a 
glass  sphere' for  the  globe  in  place  of  sulphur.  Now  that  a 
simple  generator  of  electricity  was  capable  of  being  made, 
experiments  became  more  common  and  facts  accumulated. 
Gray  and  Wheeler  in  particular,  between  1720  and  1736, 


The  Evolution  of  Electric  and  Magnetic  Physics.  155 

gave  a  great  impetus  to  the  science  by  the  discovery  of  con- 
duction. They  showed  that  glass,  resin,  silk,  and  other  sub- 
stances were  insulators,  or  impervious  to  electricity,  but  that 
metals  and  liquids  conducted  it.  They  succeeded  in  trans- 
mitting electric  force  to  a  distance  of  several  hundred  feet, 
and  by  these  experiments  laid  the  foundation  for  telegraphy. 
This  classification  of  substances  into  conductors  and  non- 
conductors since  their  time  has  not  altered  in  fact,  but  its 
principle  is  better  understood.  More  delicate  measurements 
have  since  shown  that  no  known  solid  or  liquid  body  insu- 
lates perfectly.  On  the  other  hand,  the  best  conductors  ob- 
struct to  a  certain  degree  the  flow  of  electricity,  so  that  con- 
duction and  insulation  are  only  the  limiting  attributes  of 
one  property  common  in  varying  degrees  to  every  descrip- 
tion of  matter.  No  conducting  power  has  yet  been  de- 
tected in  dry  gases,  but  it  is  possible  that  if  an  electrified 
body  could  be  maintained  suspended  in  a  gas  without  any 
solid  or  liquid  support,  such  conducting  power  might  be  dis- 
covered. The  best  solid  insulator  yet  found  is  dry,  spun 
quartz,  glass  following  next.  The  best  measurements  of  the 
conducting  power  of  glass  at  the  temperature  of  melting 
ice  show  that  it  is  inferior  to  that  of  silver — the  best  con- 
ductor— in  the  ratio  of  one  to  three  followed  by  twenty- two 
zeros. 

From  the  time  of  Gray  and  Wheeler  a  very  extraordinary 
advance  was  made  in  electrical  science ;  the  world  of  science 
now  gave  out  myriads  of  electric  sparks.  Nearly  every  year 
brought  to  light  some  fresh  discovery  in  electricity.  A  gen- 
tleman in  Leyden,  Holland,  tried  to  see  if  he  could  store  up 
electricity  in  a  bottle,  and  succeeded.  The  Leyden  jar,  the 
properties  of  which  were  thus  discovered,  was  firs*  intro- 
duced in  1745,  and  this  not  only  drew  much  attention  to 
the  subject,  but  enabled  the  experimenter  to  collect  and 
suddenly  discharge  a  greater  store  of  electrical  energy  than 
had  been  previously  possible. 

The  researches  on  electricity  that  made  Franklin  so  fa- 
mous came  next,  and  were  made  between  1747  and  1760. 
In  that  time  he  added  greatly  to  the  knowledge  of  the  sub- 
ject. He  proved  at  Philadelphia  that  lightning  was  an  elec- 
tric spark.  Lightning  had  been  going  on  since  the  world 
began,  but  it  needed  the  brightest  human  intelligence  to 
discover  that  lightning  was  electricity.  It  needed  even  more 
than  that — it  needed  evolution.  Franklin  erected  the  first 
lightning  conductor  for  the  protection  of  buildings,  and 


156    The  Evolution  of  Electric  and  Magnetic  Physics. 

thus  appears  to  have  been  the  first  to  apply  electrical  science 
to  utilitarian  purposes;  for  up  to  this  time  there  was  no 
electric  art.  In  every  other  branch  of  study,  even  astrono- 
my not  excepted,  as  evidenced  in  astrology,  art  had  long 
preceded  science,  that  vainly  toiled  to  keep  pace  in  theory 
with  the  steps  of  practice.  To  this  day  the  race  is  still  all 
uneven;  for  the  capabilities  of  skill  and  mechanism  often 
transcend  calculation  and  set  analytical  pursuit  at  defiance; 
but  here  a  new  order  was  celebrated ;  for  perhaps  the  first 
time  in  the  history  of  the  world  Science  preceded  and  cre- 
ated an  art. 

To  Franklin  and  Canton  jointly  we  owe  the  discovery, 
dimly  foreshadowed  by  Stephen  Gray,  that  electrical  force 
develops  electrification  in  surrounding  bodies,  at  a  distance, 
or  by  induction.  This  made  another  example  of  forces  act- 
ing at  a  distance,  such  as  gravitation  and  radiant  energy. 
This  then  was  a  great  mystery.  Later  investigations  have 
partly  explained  these  phenomena,  though  the  matter  is  still 
only  dimly  understood.  Newton  had  always  confessed  him- 
self unable  to  comprehend  the  modus  operandi  of  definite 
forces  acting  through  indefinitely  extended  vacancy.  He 
suggested  as  an  explanation  the  corpuscular  theory  of  light 
— that  light  consisted  of  solid  particles  of  matter  emanating 
from  a  luminous  body.  This  theory  has  since  given  way  to 
the  undulatory  theory  of  vibratory  and  progressive  disturb- 
ances in  an  elastic  ether.  The  electrical  phenomena  of  ac- 
tion at  a  distance  have  also  been  proved  to  be  produced  by 
elastic  stress,  and  possibly  even  deformation  of  the  same  in- 
visible but  ubiquitous  element.  We  know  now  what  Frank- 
lin and  Canton  did  not — that  induction  is  due  to  pushing  the 
electric  force  through  the  surrounding  air  or  ether.  It  is 
not  improbable  that  similar  solutions  may  ultimately  be 
found  for  the  other  problems  of  radiant  energy.  Gravita- 
tion yet  remains  unexplained,  but  remains,  it  is  believed, 
only  to  succumb  to  a  similar  and  equally  simple  hypothesis. 
We  seem  to  know  for  a  certainty,  at  least,  that  so-called  ac- 
tion at  a  distance  is  caused  by  stress  through  the  intervening 
medium. 

Now  that  sufficient  facts  had  been  collected,  generaliza- 
tion became  possible,  and  the  first  mathematical  theory  of 
electricity  was  propounded  by  ^Epinus  in  1759.  This,  how- 
ever, was  succeeded  and  eclipsed  by  the  researches  and  re- 
sults of  Coulomb  and  Cavendish,  who  first  applied  definite 
measurements  to  the  study  of  the  science.  It  has  been  aptly 


The  Evolution  of  Electric  and  Magnetic  Physics.  157 

said  that  all  physical  science  is  measurement.  It  is  meas- 
urement that  distinguishes  science  from  vague  theorizing. 
Just  as  Franklin  founded  the  art,  Coulomb  and  Cavendish 
founded  the  quantitative  science  of  electricity,  as  distin- 
guished from  purely  experimental  or  qualitative  knowledge. 
This  branch  of  the  subject  next  received  special  cultivation 
at  the  hands  of  the  French  savants  in  the  Napoleonic  period. 

The  task  of  developing  electrical  knowledge  had  hitherto 
been  one  of  acquiring  facts  by  direct  experiment,  but  at  this 
time  it  naturally  divided  between  two  different  sets  of  work- 
ers. There  now  sprang  up  a  set  of  electrical  philosophers 
who  theorized  upon  the  facts  already  known.  One  of  these 
classes  continued  as  before  to  seek  for  new  facts  and  new 
discoveries  by  direct  experiment,  continually  varying  their 
cross-examination  of  Nature ;  the  other  party  took  the  facts 
already  gleaned,  submitted  them  to  analysis,  and  determined 
mathematically  the  laws  those  facts  uttered.  By  a  continua- 
tion of  the  same  process,  they  endeavored  to  determine  new 
facts  and  more  recondite  laws  by  mathematical  reasoning 
from  the  existing  premises.  As  leaders  of  these  parties, 
Faraday  might  be  cited  for  the  first,  Clerk-Maxwell  of  the 
second.  Much  futile  controversy  has  been  waged  as  to  the 
power,  advantage,  and  rank  of  these  two  schools.  Both  are 
necessary ;  the  one  supplements  and  corrects  the  work  of  the 
other,  for  it  is  impossible  to  apply  intelligent  labor  to  the 
vanguard  of  science  in  any  direction  without  gaining  ground. 
The  danger  of  the  method  of  the  experimental  school,  when 
carried  to  extremes,  is  loss  of  labor  by  groping  without  defi- 
nite object  in  the  dark,  lacking  competent  leadership ;  the 
danger  of  over-impetuous  activity  in  the  analytical  camp  is 
in  missing  truth,  through  the  assumption  that  all  the  neces- 
sary premises  are  already  known,  or  else  in  terminating  re- 
search with  mere  symbols — pure  mathematics,  instead  of 
physics  written  in  mathematical  language — forgetting  the 
significance  of  the  symbols  and  losing  the  grasp  they  hold 
on  facts.  The  best  successes  are  generally  made  by  the  co- 
operation of  both  parties,  for  all  observation  must  stand  the 
test  of  analytical  trial,  and  all  calculations  must  be  confirmed 
under  the  ordeal  of  experiment. 

Many  improvements  in  methods  and  apparatus  were  made 
after  the  date  of  Franklin's  discoveries,  but  the  next  great 
epoch  was  the  discovery  of  galvanic  electricity  by  Galvani, 
of  Bologna,  in  1786.  An  electrical  machine  was  being 
worked  in  a  room  where  some  frogs  were  being  dissected. 


158  The  Evolution  of  Electric  and  Magnetic  Physics. 

"When  their  bodies  were  brought  into  the  vicinity  of  the 
machine  it  was  noticed  that  their  legs  twitched.  The  oper- 
ator commenced  to  reflect  upon  this  phenomenon,  and  the 
result  of  his  reflection  and  further  investigation  was  the 
discovery  of  galvanism,  as  it  was  called  from  his  name.  The 
subject  afterward  received  much  attention.  The  results  of 
that  discovery  were  developed  and  followed  up  with  greater 
success  by  Volta,  who  published  in  1800  his  first  account  of 
the  voltaic  pile,  the  lineal  ancestor  of  all  the  different  bat- 
teries with  which  we  are  to-day  familiar,  from  which  they 
have  been  differentiated  by  a  natural  process  of  evolution. 
Volta  made  use  of  Galvani's  experiments,  but  he  arrived  in- 
dependently at  new  and  important  results,  and  so  is  entitled 
to  equal  credit  with  Galvani.  Galvani  had  supposed  that 
the  electricity  came  from  the  frog.  Volta  showed  that  it 
resulted  from  the  contact  of  dissimilar  substances. 

Much  dispute  arose  at  the  time  as  to  the  source  of  the 
electrical  activity  in  the  generator,  and  up  to  this  date  the 
question  is  yet  open ;  but  it  appears  safe  to  conclude  that 
electrical  activity  is  capable  of  being  developed  whenever 
two  dissimilar  substances,  or  even  dissimilar  parts  of  the 
same  substance,  are  brought  into  contact.  If  the  two  sub- 
stances are  non-conductors,  as,  for  example,  glass  and  silk, 
the  electrical  force  indicates  a  high  tension  or  pressure, 
especially  when  the  substances  are  rubbed  together.  It 
would  burst  through  the  air  in  sparks,  across  a  considerable 
space.  This  was  the  condition  of  the  electricity  generated 
before  the  time  of  Galvani.  On  the  other  hand,  Avhen  the 
substances  in  contact  are  conductors,  such  as  metals,  no  ac- 
cumulative effect  is  obtained  by  the  mutual  friction  of  their 
surfaces,  and  the  electricity  produced,  while  it  may  be  abun- 
dant in  quantity,  is  of  low  pressure,  and  can  not  burst 
through  the  air  in  sparks,  or  evince  powerful  attraction  for 
surrounding  objects.  The  electricity  in  each  case  is  sup- 
posed to  be  identical  in  nature,  but  to  differ  in  behavior, 
through  differences  in  the  pressure  under  which  it  acts. 

Many  years  were  passed  in  establishing  this  relationship 
between  statical  or  frictional  and  dynamic  or  galvanic  elec- 
tricity, but  now  galvanic  effects  can  be  obtained  from  fric- 
tionally  produced  electricity,  and  all  the  phenomena  peculiar 
to  so-called  static  electricity  can  be  produced  by  increasing 
sufficiently  the  number  of  galvanic  cells,  and  thus  accumu- 
lating their  pressure.  This  property  of  pressure,  or  its  elec- 
trical analogue,  is  quantitatively  expressed  in  terms  of  a  unit 


The  Evolution  of  Electric  and  Magnetic  Physics.  159 

named  the  "  volt,"  after  Volta.  The  various  galvanic  cells 
have  singly  a  pressure  of  from  half  a  volt  to  two  volts  and  a 
half.  The  lowest  pressure  that  will  cause  a  spark  to  burst 
through  a  thin  film  of  air  is  about  six  hundred  volts.  Light- 
ning flashes  indicate  enormous  pressures,  whose  magnitude 
is  only  guessed  at,  perhaps,  in  millions  of  volts.  The  higher 
the  pressure,  the  greater  the  distance  over  which  the  electric 
spark  will  jump. 

The  discovery  of  Volta's  pile  was  no  sooner  published 
than  Sir  Humphry  Davy  commenced  experimenting  with 
it  in  London,  and  his  example  was  followed  in  every  direc- 
tion. In  1807  he  announced  the  decomposition  by  the  gal- 
vanic current  of  the  alkalies  hitherto  supposed  to  be  elements, 
or  simple,  undecomposable  forms  of  matter.  Galvanism 
now  opened  a  wide  field  for  investigation,  and  attention  for 
the  time  almost  deserted  frictional  electricity.  The  search 
was  not  long  in  danger  of  subsiding,  for  the  next  great  epoch 
was  Oersted's  discovery  of  the  influence  of  a  current  upon  a 
suspended  magnetic  needle.  This  was  in  1820.  He  dis- 
covered that  a  needle  so  suspended  stands  at  right  angles  to 
an  electric  current  passing  near  it.  Up  to  this  date  elec- 
tricity and  magnetism  had  been  studied  apart,  and  had  held 
aloof ;  now  they  met  and  were  linked  into  one  branch  of 
physics.  Magnetism  alone  had  not  made  great  advances, 
but,  associated  with  electricity,  it  has  since  developed,  prac- 
tically as  well  as  theoretically,  in  a  manner  that  has  almost 
outstripped  fancy.  Oersted's  discovery  roused  the  whole 
scientific  world.  A  few  weeks  after  its  publication,  Ampere 
issued  the  first  of  those  analytical  investigations  on  the  sub- 
ject that  have  made  his  name  so  familiar.  While  the  French 
school  chiefly  developed  the  mathematical  consequences  of 
the  new  facts,  the  experimental  study  was  actively  pushed 
by  Davy  and  Faraday  in  England,  and  Seebeck  and  Berze- 
lius  in  Germany.  The  first  electro- magnets  were  produced 
by  Arago  and  Sturgeon  about  1825,  and  these  laid  the  foun- 
dation of  the  modern  telegraph.  The  electro-magnet  also 
received  special  development  in  the  hands  of  Joseph  Henry 
at  Princeton  about  1829.  This  was  the  period  at  which  the 
electric  telegraph  was  first  inaugurated.  Electricity  had 
been  suggested  for  this  application  as  far  back  as  1753,  and 
Ronalds  had  made  a  working  model  telegraph  in  1816,  but 
frictional  high  -  pressure  electricity  had  always  been  the 
agent,  and  the  difficulty  of  insulating  it  had  invariably  in- 
terfered with  its  practical  application.  The  low-pressure 


160  The  Evolution  of  Electric  and  Magnetic  Physics. 

galvanic  current,  however,  was  much,  more  amenable  to  con- 
trol in  this  respect,  and  telegraphy,  with  the  aid  of  the  mag- 
netic needle,  in  1833  became  a  successful  experiment.  Morse 
succeeded  in  making  his  electro-magnetic  system  practicable 
in  1837. 

The  stimulus  that  electricity  gave  to  the  study  of  magnet- 
ism, immediately  following  Oersted's  discovery,  reacted  by 
reflection  upon  electrical  progress  also,  and  an  electro-mag- 
netic era  was  entered  that  has  gone  on  with  ever-increasing 
impetus  since  that  time.  The  telegraph,  fairly  in  operation 
by  1840,  spread  from  city  to  city,  and  in  1850  first  crossed 
the  sea.  Electroplating  as  an  art  sprang  into  existence 
about  the  same  time,  the  first  practical  experiment  being 
performed  about  the  year  1832.  The  debt  that  commerce 
and  civilization  owed  to  science  for  these  arts  has  since 
been  richly  repaid  by  the  aid  that  commerce  has  given  in 
the  direction  of  pure  science ;  for,  in  order  to  foster  and  in- 
vigorate these  arts,  commerce  has  defrayed  the  expense  of 
many  scientific  investigations  intermediately  necessary,  and 
this  community  of  object  is  continually  strengthening  and 
enriching  each  at  the  present  time. 

From  1830  to  1859  Faraday  made  his  masterly  re- 
searches. He  discovered  among  other  things  the  electro- 
chemical law  that  now  bears  his  name,  and  the  influence 
of  magnetism  upon  light ;  but  his  crowning  discovery  was 
that  of  electro-magnetic  induction,  which  has  paved  the 
way  for  the  dynamo-electric  machinery  of  the  present 
time. 

The  scientific  development  of  the  subject  was  also  active 
during  this  period.  In  1840  Ohm  published  his  well- 
known  law  that  reduced  the  elements  of  the  galvanic  cir- 
cuit to  simplicity.  There  was  still,  however,  a  difficulty  in 
measuring  electricity  quantitatively,-  owing  to  the  absence 
of  any  common  system  of  units.  Each  observer  measured 
and  recorded  his  results  in  arbitrary  units  of  his  own  selec- 
tion, and  great  confusion  existed  when  attempts  were  made 
to  compare  the  results  so  obtained.  Nor  was  the  deficiency 
confined  to  science  only,  for  practical  telegraphy  sorely 
labored  under  the  same  disadvantages.  To  meet  the  grow- 
ing need  for  a  universal  system  of  measurements,  the 
British  Association  for  the  Advancement  of  Science  ap- 
pointed a  committee  to  consider  the  matter  in  1861,  and 
this  committee  succeeded  in  establishing  within  four  years 
the  celebrated  centimetre,  gramme,  and  second  system  that 


The  Evolution  of  Electric  and  Magnetic  Physics.  161 

is  now  the  basis  of  all  international  measurements,  electrical 
as  well  as  scientific.  This  system  is  like  a  universal  lan- 
guage, which  enables  observers  in  one  part  of  the  world  to 
make  their  discoveries  intelligible  in  other  countries.  This 
is  now  the  base  for  all  international  scientific  measurements. 
The  advantage  that  science  has  gained  by  this  co-operative 
effort  has  been  very  great,  and  engineering  has  been  simi- 
larly benefited.  ^ 

The  great  utilitarian  progress  made  since  that  time  has 
been  in  the  invention  of  the  telephone,  the  electric  light, 
and  machinery  for  the  transmission  of  electric  power — all 
the  outcome  of  electro-magnetic  induction.  The  first 
electric  telephone  was  made  by  Reis  in  1868,  but  it  was 
only  applicable  to  the  reproduction  of  musical  sounds  at  a 
distance,  its  articulation  being  too  restricted  to  convey 
speech  successfully.  The  first  practical  speaking  telephone 
was  made  by  Alexander  Graham  Bell  in  1876.  It  is  now  in 
use  all  over  the  civilized  world,  and  many  pages  could  be 
written  upon  its  development  alone. 

The  carbon  arc  light  of  Davy,  while  very  useful  for  many 
purposes  calling  for  intense  illumination,  was  very  costly 
while  sustained  by  galvanic  batteries.  To  produce  it  more 
conveniently  and  cheaply,  the  dynamo  machine  was  slowly 
improved.  The  dynamo  as  it  existed  in  the  year  of  Fara- 
day's discovery  was  little  more  than  a  scientific  toy;  at 
the  present  time  dynamos  are  in  operation  that  singly 
transform  the  mechanical  power  of  a  steam-engine  into 
electrical  energy  to  the  working  value  of  five  thousand 
horses. 

The  study  of  the  arc  light  and  its  capabilities  led  to  the 
search  for  an  incandescent  lamp.  In  the  hands  of  Edison 
the  incandescent  lamp  became  not  only  a  possibility,  but  a 
practical  success. 

The  most  important  phases  of  the  subject  at  the  present 
time  may  thus  be  summed  up  : 

1.  In  electro-magnetic  science  the  great  achievement  since 
Faraday's  time  has  been  the  determination  of  the  fact  that 
all  electricity  flows,  or  tends  to  flow,  in  closed  curves  or  cir- 
cuits, so  that  we  have  the  electrostatic  circuit,  the  galvanic 
circuit,  and  the  magnetic  circuit,  each  resembling,  as  it  were, 
an  endless  chain  or  a  bundle  of  endless  chains ;  and  the  laws 
which  control  these  three  different  types  of  circuit  show 
wonderful  analogies. 

2.  The  due  appreciation  of  the  influence  of  the  ether  and 

12 


162  The  Evolution  of  Electric  and  Magnetic  Physics. 

its  importance  in  all  electro-magnetic  phenomena.  While 
originally  the  electrical  activity  seemed  to  be  confined  to 
the  battery  or  conducting  wires  of  a  galvanic  circuit,  it  is 
now  believed  that  the  ether  surrounding  these  conductors 
plays  fully  as  active  a  part  in  the  process  of  conduction ; 
and  the  mind  sees  free  space  no  longer  void,  but  filled  with 
an  active  and  responsive  substance — the  ether.  It  looks 
almost  as  if  matter  were  inert  in  comparison  with  the  ether 
wh;ch  surrounds  it.  Once  more  in  the  evolution  of  thought 
the  tide  of  unbelief  has  turned,  and  we  hold,  under  some- 
what altered  premises,  the  dictum  that  Torricelli  refuted — 
namely,  that  "  Nature  abhors  a  vacuum."  The  properties 
of  the  ether  almost  threaten  to  surpass  in  interest  and  im- 
portance the  properties  of  the  matter  it  environs  and  per- 
vades. 

3.  The  evidence  in  favor  of  the  proposition  that  light  is 
a  vibratory  disturbance  in  the  ether  of  an  electro-magnetic 
nature  is  such  as  almost  to  amount  to  demonstration. 
When  this  shall  be  generally  accepted,  the  whole  domain  of 
optics  and  radiant  energy  will  be  enrolled  as  one  depart- 
ment and  property  of  electro-magnetic  physics. 

Difficult  as  it  is  to  clearly  apprehend  the  course  of  evolu- 
tion in  the  near  past,  where  events  press  upon  us  in  a  narrow 
bounding  throng,  and  the  workers  at  the  great  loom  of  his- 
tory yet  stand  by  the  mesh  their  hands  have  helped  to 
weave,  how  still  more  difficult  it  is  to  guess  the  future ! 
The  prospect  that  opens  is,  however,  a  brilliant  one.  We 
may  well  believe  that  in  science  the  same  evolutionary  pro- 
cess which  has  united  electricity  and  magnetism,  and  weld- 
ed both  with  radiation,  will  continue  to  magnify,  simplify, 
and  unify.  Contrary  to  the  course  of  evolution  in  the  or- 
ganic world,  "  from  the  homogeneous  to  the  heterogeneous, 
the  simple  to  the  complex,"  the  development  of  science  is 
from  the  heterogeneous  to  the  homogeneous,  from  the  com- 
plex to  the  simple,  and  just  as  the  evolutionary  course  of 
religious  belief  was  from  polytheism  to  monotheism,  so  with 
every  fresh  acquisition  science  becomes  greater  and  grander 
and  more  succinct. 

In  the  arts,  electricity  is  destined,  even  apart  from  future 
discoveries,  to  take  into  its  own  hands  the  distribution  of 
power.  The  telegraph  has  conquered  time,  and  the  electric 
motor  is  born  to  triumph  over  space ;  but  whether  we  watch 
the  vibration  of  the  telegraphic  recorder  that  spells  its 
message  across  the  sea,  or  watch  the  electric  car,  urged  by 


TJie  Evolution  of  Electric  and  Magnetic  Physics.  1G3 

invisible  hands,  pursuing  its  stealthy  way,  the  rhythmic 
words  of  Kuskin  rise  into  recollection's  sight,  "Not  in  a 
week,  or  a  month,  or  a  year,  but  by  the  lives  of  many  souls, 
a  beautiful  thing  must  be  done." 


1G4  The  Evolution  of  Electric  and  Magnetic  Physics. 


ABSTRACT  OF  THE  DISCUSSION. 

ME.  GEORGE  M.  PHELPS  : 

Mr.  Phelps  suggested  that  the  nexus  between  the  purpose  of  the 
Ethical  Association  as  implied  in  its  title,  and  the  present  course  of 
lectures  and  discussions  upon  evolution,  as  manifested  in  the  physical 
sciences,  might  be  found  in  the  closing  words  of  Emerson's  Cambridge 
Divinity  School  Address  of  1838.  That  seer  looked  for  the  "  new  teacher 
that  shall  follow  so  far  those  shining  laws  that  he  shall  see  them  come 
full  circle ;  shall  see  their  rounding,  complete  grace ;  shall  see  the  world 
to  be  the  mirror  of  the  soul ;  shall  see  the  identity  of  the  law  of  gravita- 
tion with  purity  of  heart ;  and  shall  show  that  the  Ought,  that  Duty, 
is  one  thing  with  Science,  with  Beauty,  and  with  Joy." 

Mr.  Kennelly  had  shown,  in  his  comprehensive  address,  that  from 
the  inception  of  electric  science  and  the  useful  arts  dependent  upon  it, 
up  to  the  present  development,  there  had  gone  forward  a  course  of 
evolution,  analogous  to  that  traced  in  previous  lectures  in  the  domain 
of  nature ;  a  slight  and  crude  beginning  in  a  remote  past,  followed, 
however  slowly  or  rapidly,  by  successive  modifications  of  theory 
and  practice  with  advancing  knowledge,  accompanied  by  an  ever-in- 
creasing elaboration  and  complexity,  and  attended  by  the  elimination, 
from  time  to  time,  of  outworn  or  unsound  views  and  methods,  all  tend- 
ing steadily  to  enhanced  use  and  benefit. 

The  expansion  of  use  and  benefit  during  the  ten  years  just  passed  was 
a  most  striking  feature  of  electrical  evolution ;  an  expansion  requiring 
the  employment  of  an  amount  of  electrical  energy  still  more  striking 
as  compared  with  the  amount  used  for  all  purposes  previous  to  the 
advent  of  electric  lighting  and  transmission  of  power.  Every  arc-lamp 
requires  nearly  a  horse-power  of  electrical  energy,  and  every  incan- 
descent lamp  about  a  tenth  as  much ;  tens  of  thousands  of  electric 
motors  add  to  the  enormous  consumption.  It  is  doubtless  safe  to  say 
that  an  aggregate  of  not  less  than  a  million  horse-power  of  electrical 
energy  is  daily  expended  in  the  various  electrical  arts  of  to-day,  of 
which  amount  certainly  less  than  one  tenth  is  required  for  the  service 
of  the  telegraph,  the  telephone,  and  all  other  uses  biit  those  of  light  and 
power.  The  latter,  ten-year-old  industries,  are  therefore  utilizing  nine 
or  ten  times  as  much  electricity  as  is  required  for  all  other  purposes. 

In  the  evolution  of  sciences  and  arts,  such  as  form  the  topics  of  this 
season's  course,  there  comes  in  a  factor  not  found  in  the  evolution  of 


The  Evolution  of  Electric  and  Magnetic  Physics.  165 

what  is  called  the  natural  world — namely,  the  incalculable  spirit  of 
man.  The  inventor  arrives.  In  the  laboratory  of  the  investigator, 
the  workshop  of  the  mechanic,  the  managing  office  of  an  industry,  or 
in  the  quiet  library  of  a  student,  a  thought,  an  idea  is  born.  If  the 
time  be  ripe  or  the  environment  favorable,  the  idea  may  modify,  or  even 
revolutionize,  a  science ;  or  may  be  embodied  in  a  machine  or  device 
that  will  revivify  a  waning  industry  or  found  a  new  one.  But,  alas ! 
the  time  is  not  always  ripe  nor  the  environment  favorable ;  then,  though 
the  spirit  do  its  work  never  so  well,  the  thought,  the  idea,  seems  to  perish, 
like  useless  variations  in  the  evolution  of  nature.  But,  though  useless 
at  its  birth,  and  perhaps  during  the  life  of  its  originator,  it  may  in  the 
fullness  of  time  be  found  the  one  thing  wanting  in  the  thought  or 
work  of  the  world.  A  striking  instance  is  found  in  the  case  of  Thomas 
Davenport,  a  Vermont  blacksmith,  who  died  thirty-two  years  ago. 
We  have  now  just  become  used  to  riding  upon  electric  cars.  In  1835 
Davenport  made  and  described  electric  motors  embodying  the  es- 
sential features  of  the  motors  now  in  use.  He  exhibited  several  speci- 
mens within  the  next  two  years,  running  a  miniature  car  upon  a  small 
circular  track.  But  there  was  no  adequate  source  of  electricity  to 
drive  large  motors ;  the  dynamo  did  not  exist.  Davenport  died  poor 
and  disappointed.  To-day  his  thought,  his  idea,  is  serving  us  in  all 
the  manifold  applications  of  electric  power. 

But  for  those  who  fail  or  fall  in  trying  to  make  the  world  richer,  more 
commodious,  more  beautiful,  to  make  mankind  better  and  happier,  and 
for  all  of  us,  there  remains  the  faith  of  the  true  evolutionist  in  the 
abiding  quality,  the  permanence,  of  every  true  and  good  bit  of  work, 
whether  in  the  realm  of  science,  art,  industry,  or  ethics. 

The  robust  poet  who  left  us  a  year  ago  thus  sings  through  the  voice 
of  Abt  Vogler,  the  inventor  of  a  wondrous  musical  instrument,  whose 
harmonies  have  entranced  his  spirit : 

"  There  shall  never  be  one  lost  good !    What  was  shall  live  as  before ; 
The  evil  is  null,  is  naught,  is  silence  implying  sound  ; 
What  was  good,  shall  be  good,  with,  for  evil,  so  much  good  more." 

MR.  T.C.MARTIN: 

Mr.  Martin  said  that  the  discussion  of  electricity  in  the  series  on 
evolution,  at  Christmas  time  and  on  the  threshold  of  the  New  Year,  was 
very  happy  and  appropriate.  The  mission  of  electricity  as  a  force  and 
agent  directly  affecting  human  welfare  was  to  promote  peace  on  earth 
and  good-will  among  men ;  its  motto  was :  "  Behold  I  make  all  things 
new."  Electricity  had  been  one  of  the  principal  means  in  bringing  in- 
dividuals and  peoples  together.  Everything  which  broke  down  the 


166  The  Evolution  of  Electric  and  Magnetic  Physics. 

walls  of  isolation  and  invited  to  freer  social  intercourse  belonged  to 
the  higher  influences,  "  not  ourselves,"  but  outside,  making  for  right- 
eousness and  a  perfected  evolution  of  man  and  his  world.  So,  too, 
electricity,  in  making  all  things  new,  was  the  latest  of  the  great  powers 
to  be  controlled  by  human  wit  and  invention,  succeeding  others  in  due 
season,  "  lest  one  good  custom  should  corrupt  the  world  "  ;  and  teach- 
ing that  the  finite  is  the  imperfect,  of  contentment  in  which  we  must 
beware.  At  the  present  moment  the  work  of  electricity  lay  chiefly  in 
light  and  power,  and  it  gave  us  purer,  sweeter,  subtler,  gentler  service 
than  any  of  its  predecessors  had  afforded.  It  could  not  but  be  that 
this  refinement  of  service  and  influence  would  better  and  elevate 
all  who  enjoyed  it,  as  taking  us  one  remove  further  from  the  crude, 
raw,  and  barbaric.  This  messiahship  of  material  things  was  borne  in 
upon  us  in  witnessing  the  advances  of  science,  which,  after  all,  meant 
nothing  unless  they  purified  and  sanctified  life.  As  one  whose  work 
lay  in  the  electrical  field,  he  found  pleasure  in  thinking  that  such 
work,  perhaps  more  than  any  other  of  its  kind,  laid  hold  on  the  future, 
with  its  promise  of  a  nobler  state  of  society  than  had  yet  been  attained. 

DR.  ROBERT  G.  ECCLES  : 

Mr.  Kennelly  has  in  a  clear  and  impressive  manner  carried  us  along 
the  successive  steps  of  the  progress  of  electric  science,  and  in  showing 
its  connection  with  the  doctrine  of  evolution  he  has  been  ably  second- 
ed by  the  gentleman  who  opened  the  discussion.  It  is  not  possible  for 
one  scarcely  an  amateur  in  the  subject  to  attempt  any  criticism  of 
these  experts,  and  it  seems  almost  in  the  nature  of  presumption  for 
me  to  even  suppose  myself  able  to  add  to  the  interest  of  the  same.  In 
one  hour's  talk,  however,  many  things  of  great  importance  that  might 
be  advantageously  dwelt  upon  to  impress  them  the  more  firmly  on  the 
listener's  attention  are  necessarily  dismissed  with  the  briefest  notice. 
As  an  illustration  we  have  the  discovery  of  Oersted  that  a  magnetic 
needle  is  deflected  by  a  current  of  electricity,  and  if  the  current  is 
strong  the  needle  will  set  itself  almost  at  right  angles  with  the  wire 
carrying  it.  It  is  safe  to  say  that  this  evidence  of  the  connection  of 
magnetism  with  electricity  is  the  trunk  of  the  tree  whose  branches 
now  fill  the  whole  earth  with  telephones,  telegraphs,  burglar-alarms, 
electric  lights,  and  all  our  successful  applications  of  this  force.  Prom 
it  can  be  traced  the  successive  steps  leading  to  the  latest  wonders  of 
this  kind  and  pointing  toward  many  more  yet  to  come.  Some  of  the 
most  recent  attempts  to  chain  this  giant  seem  to  border  on  the  un- 
canny regions  of  fairy-land.  To  be  able  to  send  telegraphic  messages 
from  moving  trains  by  induced  currents  is  certainly  a  triumph  to  be 
proud  of.  Miraculous  though  it  may  seem,  it  is  but  a  phenomenon  of 


The  Evolution  of  Electric  and  Magnetic  Physics.  167 

every-day  experience  with  telephone-users  who  hear  what  is  being  said 
on  wires  contiguous  to  their  own.  Without  apparent  connection  the 
message  jumps  from  wire  to  wire  through  vacant  space.  But  such 
telegraphing  without  wires  has  been  discounted  very  much  in  the 
sending  of  messages  to  considerable  distances  across  the  sea  without  a 
cable.  This  was  done  not  long  ago  from  the  Isle  of  Wight  to  the 
mainland  of  England.  It  is  seriously  proposed  to  adopt  the  same  plan 
by  ocean  ships  so  that  they  can  telegraph  to  each  other  on  sight.  A 
few  years  ago  an  enthusiastic  individual  suggested  the  possibility  of 
sending  oceanic  electric  currents  from  America  to  Europe  by  having 
wires  and  currents  of  sufficient  power  strung  along  the  coasts  of  the 
Eastern  and  Western  Hemispheres  and  grounded  in  the  water  at  each 
termination. 

In  theoretical  considerations  this  department  of  science  has  until 
lately  made  little  or  no  progress.  The  two-fluid  theory  of  Symmer 
and  the  one-fluid  theory  of  Franklin,  while  held  by  various  students 
and  workers  with  less  or  more  tenacity,  were  practically  driven  from 
the  field  by  the  doctrine  of  the  conservation  of  energy.  Educated 
electricians  now  generally  believe  that  all  they  have  to  deal  with  is 
modes  of  motion  in  matter  and  in  the  universal  ether.  Clerk  Maxwell's 
theory  of  light  shows  how  it  can  be  understood  as  related  to  and  of  a 
kind  with  electricity.  The  acceptance  of  this  theory  forces  us  to  con- 
clude that  every  chemical  transformation  sends  out  from  itself  two 
sets  of  strains  on  the  ether  answering  to  two  forms  of  force,  one  of 
which  we  call  heat  or  light,  and  the  other  electricity.  One  is  longi- 
tudinal and  the  other  transverse.  It  is  not  possible  to  give  by  mere 
verbal  description  to  this  audience  other  than  a  rough  analogous  adum- 
bration of  the  theory.  Imagine  a  set  of  elastic  cogwheels  reaching  the 
length  of  the  church  and  caused  to  revolve.  The  matter  of  the  wheels 
goes  up  and  down  by  their  rotation.  If  at  the  same  time  they  are 
crowded  outward  and  give  to  the  pressure,  a  to-and-fro  movement  of 
the  substance  of  the  wheels  is  added  to  the  up-and-down  movement  of 
rotation.  Some  such  two  sets  of  movements  are  set  up  in  matter  and 
the  ether  answering  to  electricity  and  light.  The  truth  of  Maxwell's 
theory  has  almost  met  complete  experimental  proof  within  the  last  two 
or  three  years.  Dr.  Henry  Hertz,  in  a  communication  to  the  Sixty- 
second  Congress  of  German  Naturalists  and  Physicians,  which  assem- 
bled at  Heidelberg  last  summer,  communicated  the  results  of  his 
experiments  in  this  field  of  research.  He  showed  that  it  was  now  pos- 
sible to  duplicate  with  electricity  nearly  every  experiment  depended 
upon  to  demonstrate  the  truth  of  the  undulatory  theory  of  light. 
Electric  waves  are  shown  under  proper  conditions  to  possess  all  the 
properties  of  light  waves.  They  have  been  reflected,  refracted,  made 


168  The  Evolution  of  Electric  and  Magnetic  Physics. 

to  interfere,  caused  to  cast  shadows,  and,  in  fact,  to  do  everything  that 
light  can  do.  The  dimensions  of  these  waves  have  been  measured  and 
found  to  be  much  larger  than  those  of  light.  A  prism  of  asphalt  re- 
fracts them  as  one  of  glass  does  those  of  light.  A  metallic  grating 
polarizes  them  as  a  nickel  prism  does  light.  They  separate,  they  com- 
bine, they  re-enforce,  they  weaken  each  other.  For  a  long  time  we 
studied  the  thermal  qualities  of  bodies  before  we  knew  much  of  radiant 
heat,  and  for  an  equally  long  or  longer  time  we  have  studied  the  elec- 
trical qualities  of  bodies,  and  have  but  just  begun  to  appreciate  the  facts 
of  radiant  electricity.  The  science  of  electricity  that  began  with  the 
discovery  that  rubbing  a  piece  of  amber  gave  it  the  power  to  attract 
light  bodies  has  gone  on  from  this  beginning  until  now  it  seems  to 
embrace  the  universe.  Strange  that  all  powerful  cosmic  forces,  be- 
cause of  such  a  beginning,  should  come  to  be  classed  as  those  of  am- 
bericity.  Electron  means  amber.  Every  movement  we  make,  every 
breath  we  breathe,  every  thought  we  think  produces  it. 

DR.  WILLIAM  M.  HUTCHINSON  : 

Frictional  or  static  electricity,  when  applied  to  the  surface  of  the 
body  in  the  form  of  a  spark,  causes — 1st,  a  sudden  involuntary  move- 
ment of  the  part  irritated ;  2d,  a  reddening  of  the  cutaneous  surface ; 
3d,  a  perception  of  a  distinct  sensation,  either  pleasant  and  invigorat- 
ing or  painful  and  depressing,  as  the  case  may  be.  That  it  causes  a 
marked  stimulating  effect  upon  the  function  and  nutrition  of  nerves 
and  muscles  is  claimed  by  some  and  denied  by  others.  It  certainly 
will  relieve  the  pain  of  some  forms  of  neuralgia.  A?  a  means  of  pro- 
ducing marked  mental  impressions,  and  thus  demonstrating  the  re- 
markable interaction  between  the  mind  and  body  by  curing  some 
forms  of  functional  nervous  disturbances,  frictional  sparks  are  often 
of  service  to  the  physician.  It  is  probable,  however,  that  this  effect  is 
purely  mental,  the  result  being  produced  by  causing  an  expectant  at- 
tention on  the  subject's  part,  as  is  done  by  the  so-called  "  mind  cures  " 
or  "  hypnotic  suggestion  "  methods. 

Current  or  voltaic  electricity,  when  passed  through  the  body,  pro- 
duces three  effects— viz.,  catalytic,  cataphoric,  and  electro-tonic.  The 
catalytic  action  may  be  slight  if  the  current  be  weak,  and,  by  increas- 
ing chemical  reactions  within  the  tissues  of  the  body,  it  may  serve  to 
stimulate  nutritive  changes.  If  the  current  is  sufficiently  strong,  in- 
tense effects  are  produced— the  tissues  are  decomposed  about  each  pole, 
blisters  containing  acid  fluids  forming  at  the  positive  pole,  and  alka- 
line fluids  at  the  negative  pole.  This  destructive  effect  is  sometimes 
made  use  of  in  the  breaking  down  of  new  growths,  as  tumors,  and  in 
the  enlarging  of  contracted  passages  or  canals. 


The  Evolution  of  Electric  and  Magnetic  Physics.  169 

By  the  cataphoric  action  of  a  continuous  galvanic  current  is  meant 
the  property  which  such  a  current  possesses  of  moving  along  with  it 
fluids  that  lie  in  its  path,  and  so,  when  applied  to  the  body,  of  increas- 
ing osmoses.  This  action  of  this  current  may  be  also  applied  to  carry 
with  it  medicinal  substances  into  the  tissues  through  the  pathway  of 
the  skin. 

The  electro-tonic  effects  produced  upon  the  tissues  during  the  pas- 
sage of  a  voltaic  current  are  'a  diminished  state  of  excitability  at  the 
positive  pole,  and  an  increased  degree  of  irritability  at  the  negative 
pole. 

If  this  current  be  rapidly  interrupted,  or  broken  and  reconnected,  it 
appears  to  have  the  effect  upon  various  organs  of  setting  them  to 
work.  For  instance,  the  muscles  of  the  hand  may  be  made  to  con- 
tract if  this  current  be  applied  to  the  portion  of  the  brain  presiding 
over  the  hand,  to  the  nerve  trunk  going  to  the  hand,  or  to  the  muscles 
themselves.  Again,  if  it  be  applied  to  special  sense  nerves,  as  the 
optic  or  auditory,  the  effect  is  to  produce  the  sensation  of  a  flash  of 
light  or  certain  noises.  If  this  interrupted  voltaic  current  be  of  high 
potency— 500  to  1,000  volts— the  effect  is  to  produce  such  profound 
and  sudden  change  of  the  molecular  state  of  the  tissues  and  vital  pro- 
cesses that  their  activities  instantly  cease.  The  suddenness  and  pain- 
lessness  of  this  death  has  caused  the  advocacy,  by  many  electricians 
and  physicians,  of  the  execution  of  criminals  by  electricity. 

MR.  KEN>T:LLY,  in  closing  the  discussion,  held  that  it  was  probable 
that  electricity  would  soon  become  the  chief  motor  power  in  our  cities, 
substituting  both  steam  and  horse-power.  In  this  direction  our  West- 
ern cities  were  in  advance  of  New  York  and  Brooklyn.  He  also 
thought  electricity  the  most  painless  and  humane  mode  of  executing 
criminals. 


THE 
EVOLUTION  OF  BOTANY 


BY 

FREDERICK  J.   WULLING,  PH.  G. 


COLLATERAL  READINGS  SUGGESTED: 

Article  Botany  in  Encyclopaedia  Britannica ;  Gray's  North  Ameri- 
can Flora,  Structural  and  Systematic  Botany,  How  Plants  Grow,  How 
Plants  Behave,  and  Statistics  of  the  Flora  of  the  Northern  United 
States,  in  Silliman's  Journal,  second  series,  vol.  xxii ;  Henslow's  The 
Origin  of  Floral  Structures ;  Wallace's  Island  Life,  and  Tropical  and 
Geographical  Distribution  of  Plants  and  Animals ;  Sachs's  Sketch  of 
the  Development  of  Botany  from  1530  to  1860;  Strasburger's  Hand- 
book of  Practical  Botany;  Lester  F.  Ward's  The  Geographical  Distri- 
bution of  Fossil  Plants ;  Grant  Allen's  The  Evolutionist  at  Large ; 
Lubbock's  Flowers,  Fruits,  and  Leaves. 


THE  EVOLUTION  OF   BOTANY. 

BY  FREDERICK  J.  WULLING,  PH.  GK 

THE  history  of  botany  portrays  the  gradual  development 
of  the  scientific  knowledge  of  the  vegetable  kingdom.  Like 
that  of  many  of  the  sciences,  its  origin  is  enveloped  in  the 
darkness  of  the  early  ages,  but  if  considered  in  its  widest 
sense  it  must  have  been  contemporaneous  with  the  origin  of 
mankind.  Before  the  discovery  of  the  metals  and  the  inven- 
tion of  the  arts,  and  the  employment  of  tools  and  weapons 
whereby  man  became  dominant  over  the  other  animals,  it 
must  be  assumed  that  he  was  largely  if  not  wholly  dependent 
upon  the  vegetable  kingdom  for  his  subsistence.  Roots, 
fruits,  and  herbs  must  have  at  that  time  constituted  his 
chief  nourishment.  As  his  powers  of  observation  developed, 
he  learned  to  know  and  distinguish  such  plants  as  were 
easily  digestible  and  those  difficultly  so.  He  discovered  that 
some,  or  parts  of  some,  plants  were  cathartic  or  the  contrary, 
that  some  were  poisonous,  while  others  were  harmless.  We 
must  also  be  permitted  to  assume  that  the  knowledge  thus 
gained  was  transmitted  from  one  generation  to  another. 
From  later  indications  we  also  learn  that  the  names  of  those 
who  were  fortunate  enough  to  discover  a  new  plant  which 
furnished  food  or  medicine  were  carried  to  posterity  and 
succeeding  generations.  The  veneration  for  these  discoverers 
grew  with  each  generation  until  they  were,  in  some  in- 
stances, revered  as  gods.  Some  of  the  gods  of  the  ancients 
have  been  traced  back  to  such  an  origin.  In  those  early  ages 
of  mankind — indeed,  as  is  yet  the  custom  among  some  of  the 
savage  tribes  of  to-day — the  collection  and  administration  of 
food  and  remedies  were  always  accompanied  by  curious  cere- 
monies, for  the  people  of  that  time  were  exceedingly  super- 
stitious and  had  peculiar  ways  of  invoking  the  blessings  of 
their  gods,  or  of  banishing  a  witch.  For  this  reason  the 
character  of  the  priest  was  afterwards  combined  with  that  of 
doctor,  and  the  sick  would  seek  relief  in  the  temples  where 
the  priest- doctors  resided. 

Pliny  teaches  that  the  Druids,  that  most  extraordinary 
sect  which  once  inhabited  England,  ascribed  almost  divine 


174  The  Evolution  of  Botany. 

properties  to  the  mistletoe,  aconite,  and  samolus  or  water- 
pimpernel,  and  describes  some  of  the  ceremonies  observed 
in  their  collection.  The  mistletoe  had  to  be  cut  with  a  knife 
the  blade  of  which  was  of  gold ;  it  needed  to  be  collected 
when  the  moon  was  six  days  old.  No  one  else  than  a  priest 
was  allowed  to  do  the  collecting,  and  for  that  purpose  he 
was  clad  in  white.  The  plant  had  to  be  so  cut  that  it  would 
fall  into  a  white  cloth  which  was  always  kept  in  readiness. 
Lastly,  two  oxen  had  to  be  sacrificed ;  and  when  the  mistle- 
toe was  thus  consecrated  it  was  a  remedy  for  barrenness  and 
an  antidote  to  poison. 

The  aconite  (probably  not  identical  with  that  we  know  to- 
day), after  a  previous  sacrifice  of  honey,  had  to  be  collected 
in  total  darkness  when  neither  sun  nor  moon  shone,  and  the 
cutting  had  to  be  done  with  the  left  hand  after  a  circle  had 
been  described  around  the  plant.  So  collected,  the  plant 
would  conquer  fevers,  neutralize  snake-poison,  and  serve  as 
an  enchantment  to  gain  the  friendship  of  others. 

The  selago  (probably  one  of  our  sedums)  could  not  be  cut 
with  an  iron  knife  without  destroying  its  good  properties, 
nor  could  it  be  touched  with  the  bare  hand.  The  collector 
had  to  array  himself  in  white  and  perform  the  ceremonies 
which  the  superstition  of  the  people  prescribed,  in  bare 
feet,  regardless  of  the  possibilities  of  catching  cold.  If 
collected  in  this  manner,  and  in  this  manner  only,  it  would 
cure  diseased  eyes  and  serve  as  a  charm  against  acci- 
dents. 

Not  alone  the  Druids,  but  it  is  fair  to  assume  that  all  the 
primitive  races  knew  a  little  concerning  plants ;  there  has 
been  until  now  no  nation  discovered  which  was  indifferent 
or  negligent  enough  to  have  ignored  health  so  much  that 
it  was  not  familiar  with  at  least  a  few  remedial  agents 
Knowing  something  of  the  medicinal  properties  of  plants 
implied  as  a  consequence  some  knowledge  of  the  physical 
properties  as  well ;  the  ancients  knew,  for  instance,  that  a 
plant  collected  at  a  certain  time  would  be  more  active  than 
if  gathered  at  other  times.  They  were  familiar  with  the  ex- 
ternal appearance  of  these  plants,  and  though  they  could  not 
describe  them  as  intelligently  as  we  can,  they  yet  must  have 
had  a  way  of  communicating  to  each  other  the  nature  of  a 
plant  newly  discovered  to  have  remedial  or  nourishing  value. 
In  thus  communicating  with  each  other  they  must  have  in- 
vented and  used  terms  of  a  descriptive  nature,  and  descrip- 
tive botany  would  have  been  the  first  department  of  botany 


The  Evolution  of  Botany.  175 

according  to  this  logic ;  and  it  was  so.  The  first  works  writ- 
ten on  botany  were  only  descriptive. 

Thus  the  very  earliest  attention  given  to  the  study,  if  it 
may  be  so  called,  of  plants,  was  bestowed  upon  those  having 
or  supposed  to  have  medicinal  value,  and  botany  was  there- 
fore begun  simultaneously  with  medicine.  Although  the 
progress  in  the  beginning  of  medicine  was  very  slow,  the 
number  of  remedies,  mostly  though  not  wholly  consisting 
of  plants,  gradually  became  larger.  When  medicine  as  a 
science  began  to  assume  form  and  to  be  taught  in  the  schools 
of  Greece,  Hippocrates,  the  father  of  medicine,  published 
the  names  of  all  medicinal  plants  known  in  his  time,  of 
which  there  were  but  300.  The  various  departments  of  bot- 
any were  by  no  means  instituted  together  or  at  one  time ; 
from  antiquity  until  comparatively  recent  times  the  little  at- 
tention given  to  botany  was  mainly  devoted  to  a  meager 
description,  especially  of  medicinal  plants.  So  Hippocrates's 
work  gave  only  the  description  and  supposed  medicinal 
properties  of  the  300  plants  known  to  him. 

Aristotle,  350  B.  c.,  seems  to  have  been  the  first  one  who 
occupied  himself  with  the  study  of  plants,  but,  unfortu- 
nately, the  results  of  his  studies  have  been  lost  with  other 
works  of  his.  Those  of  his  pupil  Theophrastus  have  been 
preserved  and  are  probably  based  upon  his. 

Theophrastus,  besides  indulging,  in  a  purely  philosophical 
sense,  in  a  speculation  upon  the  nature  and  origin  of  plants, 
describes  about  500  species,  the  names  of  the  most  of  which 
are  not  familiar  to  the  botanist  of  to-day.  Perhaps  some 
botanist  of  the  future  will  recognize  in  the  plants  described 
in  these  old  books  the  ancestors  of  some  of  our  present  plants, 
and  determine  what  changes  evolution  has  wrought  upon 
the  former  in  twenty-two  centuries.  The  works  referred  to 
above  were  published  again,  and  in  German,  in  the  begin- 
ning of  this  century. 

From  Theophrastus's  time  there  is  no  record  of  any  work 
done  in  botany  until  the  first  century  of  the  Christian  era, 
when  Dioscorides  wrote  his  Materia  Medica  at  Rome,  in 
which  he  describes  600  medicinal  plants.  Though  the  num- 
ber had  swelled  to  600,  there  was  no  advance  in  any  other 
direction  since  Aristotle's  time. 

The  beginning  and  spreading  of  the  Christian  religion 
checked  the  progress  of  the  sciences  exceedingly,  and  botany, 
in  which  considerable  interest  had  been  awakened  through 
Dioscorides's  works,  with  many  of  the  other  sciences,  was 


176  The  Evolution  of  Botany. 

neglected  and  allowed  to  recede  into  and  remain  in  oblivion 
for  a  long  time. 

Again  there  is  no  record  of  botany  until  the  twelfth  cent- 
ury. The  few  who  did  interest  themselves  in  it  did  so  only 
to  the  extent  of  acquiring  the  little  knowledge  already  pos- 
sessed by  men  of  Theophrastus's  time,  without  entering  upon 
any  researches  which  would  have  enriched  the  fund  of  bo- 
tanical knowledge.  The  dominant  tendency  at  that  time 
was  to  study  the  works  of  the  old  authors,  among  whom 
Dioscorides  was  recognized  as  the  highest  authority,  and  up- 
on whose  work  many  commentaries  were  written. 

In  the  thirteenth  century  we  find  the  German  Albertus 
Magnus  investigating  and  studying  plant  life,  upon  which  he 
wrote  seven  books,  which  have  since  been  published  (1521) 
in  twenty-one  volumes.  The  voluminous  character  of  this 
work  hides  its  value  as  a  botanical  text-book,  for  which  it 
is  believed  to  have  been  intended. 

"When,  at  the  end  of  the  fifteenth  century,  the  sciences  be- 
gan to  revive  and  receive  attention  again,  botany  welcomed 
a  goodly  share.  The  Germans  especially  were  instrumental 
in  delivering  botany  from  the  fetters  of  the  old  school.  The 
inadequacy  of  the  teachings  of  Dioscorides  induced  several 
naturalists — among  whom  were  prominent,  Brunfels,  Bruns- 
wick, Fuchs,  Tragus,  and  Gessner — to  examine  and  study 
the  plants  of  Germany,  with  a  view  to  publishing  a  work 
with  illustrations  and  descriptions  based  upon  their  own  re- 
searches. This  they  finally  accomplished. 

Gessner  was  the  first  to  conceive  the  idea  that  the  organs 
of  fructification  were  the  essential  ones,  and  that  a  classifica- 
tion, the  need  of  which  began  to  be  felt,  should  be  based  up- 
on these. 

These  men  were  followed  by  Peter  Matthiolus,  A.  Csesal- 
pinius,  Alpino,  Columna,  Dodonaus,  Clusius,  Lobelius,  Dela- 
champ,  Gerard,  Camerarius,  the  brothers  Bauhin,  and  others, 
through  whose  exertions  the  number  of  known  plants  at  the 
beginning  of  the  seventeenth  century  had  reached  5,500. 
With  this  large  number  of  plants  little  could  be  done  if  they 
were  not  classified,  and  some  systematic  arrangement  became 
a  necessity.  The  first  attempt  at  a  "  natural  arrangement  " 
was  made  by  Lobelius  (1570),  who  classified  plants  into  trees, 
grasses,  ferns,  lilies,  etc.,  simply  according  to  their  external  re- 
semblances. A.  Caesalpinius,  afterward  named  by  Linnasus 
the  "  first  orthodox  systematizer,"  acted  upon  the  suggestion 
of  Gessner  and  employed  the  fruit  and  the  essential  parts  of 


The  Evolution  of  Botany.  177 

the  seeds  as  a  basis  for  his  classification,  which  form  of  ar- 
rangement was  retained  by  most  of  his  followers.  Caesal- 
pinius  opened  a  new  epoch  in  botany ;  he  cared  little  for 
the  description  of  individual  plants,  but  rather  sought  to 
generalize  from  the  individual.  He  aspired  to  a  classifica- 
tion which  recognized  the  internal  nature  of  the  plant,  so  to 
speak,  and  arrived,  through  Aristotelian  philosophic  deduc- 
tion, to  the  conviction  that  a  natural  classification  must  be 
based  upon  the  organs  of  fructification.  His  system  contains 
as  a  consequence  a  series  of  most  unnatural  groups. 

A  little  later  the  brothers  Bauhin  contributed  a  goodly 
share  to  the  cause  of  botany.  While  John  Bauhin,  espe- 
cially in  his  work  Historia  Plantarum  Universalis,  supported 
the  views  of  Lobelius,  and  therefore  aspired  to  a  natural 
classification  based  upon  general  external  similarity — that  is, 
for  instance,  including  in  the  class  "  trees  "  all  plants  that 
partook  of  the  nature  of  a  tree,  including  in  another  class  all 
the  grasses,  in  another  all  the  ferns,  irrespective  of  any  other 
similarity  than  that  of  external  appearance — his  brother, 
Caspar  Bauhin,  not  only  increased  the  number  of  known 
plants  by  his  investigations  and  discoveries,  but  also  cor- 
rected the  chaos  existing  in  the  very  confusing  synonymic  of 
the  time.  The  latter  endeavored  in  his  work  Phytopinax 
to  present  a  synopsis  of  all  plants  known  up  to  that  time, 
1596 ;  and  in  a  later  work,  1623  published  the  names  of  6,000 
plants  with  their  many  synonyms.  The  discovery  of  Amer- 
ica more  than  a  century  before  largely  increased  the  num- 
ber of  known  plants  which  were  also  included  in  the  latter 
work. 

Botanical  enthusiasm  ran  high  just  at  that  time,  and 
botanical  knowledge  spread  rapidly,  especially  among  the 
learned  classes,  who  began  to  add  botany  to  the  branches 
taught  in  the  higher  schools.  The  universities  had  before 
that  taught  it.  Botanical  travels  were  undertaken  by  in- 
terested individuals,  and  scientific  organizations  sent  out 
botanical  expeditions  to  study  the  floras  of  surrounding 
countries.  Clusius  explored  nearly  the  whole  of  Europe, 
and  P.  Albini  most  of  the  Orient,  both  with  much  success. 

Clusius  was  one  of  those  scientists  who,  after  the  Kef  orma- 
tion,  rescued  the  various  departments  of  knowledge  from  the 
spirit  of  the  old  scholasticism,  and  taught  that  true  science 
was  the  study  of  Nature  herself,  and  not  the  study  of  the 
whimsical  notions  and  theories  of  the  old  school.  He  was 
one  of  those  reformers  who  instituted  a  practice  of  investi- 
13 


178  The  Eoolution  of  Botany. 

gating  and  testing  the  teachings  of  the  old  scholars,  which 
practice  brought  to  light  and  did  away  with  many  absurd 
intrusions  upon  science,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  served  to 
widen  scientific  knowledge  by  the  many  new  discoveries  and 
inventions  it  brought  about.  In  his  travels,  in  France  and 
Austria  principally,  Clusius  was  very  successful  in  discover- 
ing new  plants,  which,  upon  his  return,  he  classified  with 
much  labor,  and  described  with  more  accuracy  than  had 
theretofore  been  employed  in  the  description  of  plants.  He 
published  the  results  of  his  travels  and  succeeding  labor  in 
several  books,  of  which  the  Kariorum  Plantarum  Historia 
contained  most  of  the  plants  then  known,  with  illustrations 
of  those  he  discovered.  It  was  the  best  exposition  of  botany 
in  its  time.  Clusius  also  made  an  attempt  at  classification 
among  plants  of  his  own  discovery,  but  which  was  not  of 
much  account.  None  of  his  contemporaries  or  predecessors 
can  record  the  discovery  of  a  larger  number  of  plants. 

Up  to  the  first  half  of  the  seventeenth  century  only  descrip- 
tive botany  had  received  attention,  and  the  classification  was 
yet  in  a  primitive  condition.  Of  the  structure  of  plants  little 
or  nothing  was  known  until  the  invention  of  the  microscope, 
which  marked  an  important  epoch  in  the  development  of  the 
sciences.  Indeed,  botany  benefited  more  by  the  introduc- 
tion of  the  microscope  than  any  other  science.  The  inven- 
tion of  the  microscope  not  only  induced  the  study  of  the 
structure  of  plants,  but  was  also  an  introduction  to  crypto- 
gamous  botany,  the  study  of  the  flowerless  plants,  of  which, 
until  then,  practically  nothing  was  known.  In  the  same 
degree  in  which  the  microscope  was  perfected  did  the 
knowledge  of  plant  anatomy,  the  study  of  the  structure  of 
plants,  increase. 

As  the  founders  of  plant  anatomy  we  must  recognize  N. 
Grew,  Malpighi,  and  Leeuwenhoek,  who  simultaneously  en- 
tered upon  microscopical  investigations,  the  results  of  which 
they  published  in  1670,  1671,  and  1673,  respectively,  these 
works  being  the  first  of  their  kind.  Malpighi  first  employed 
strong  convex  lenses,  corresponding  to  our  simple  micro- 
scope of  about  180  magnifying  powers,  to  examine  into  the 
structure  of  human  tissue.  The  experience  he  gained  by 
thus  studying  the  tissue  of  the  lungs,  brain,  kidneys,  intes- 
tines, and  nerves,  he  applied  vigorously  to  the  establishment 
of  plant  anatomy ;  and  his  work  Anatomica  Plantarum  may 
be  said  to  have  been  the  basis  for  the  future  and  more  ex- 
haustive work's  by  other  authors.  Nehemiah  Grew  also  oc- 


The  Evolution  of  Botany.  179 

cupied  himself  very  successfully  with  phytotomy — plant 
anatomy — of  which  he  was  one  of  the  founders.  He  dis- 
covered the  cell-structure  of  plant  tissue,  distinguished  the 
parenchyma tous  tissue  from  the  longitudinal  fibers,  the  wood- 
bundles  and  ducts,  and  studied  more  carefully  the  relations 
which  these  cell-forms  bore  to  each  other  in  the  various 
organs  of  the  plants.  His  investigations  brought  to  light 
much  that  we  now  know  of  spiral  ducts.  His  book  Anatomy 
of  Plants,  published  in  London  in  1682,  was  an  excellent  work 
in  that  time.  Leeuwenhoek,  too,  did  much  in  developing 
microscopic  botany.  He  was,  at  the  time  the  microscope 
was  invented,  a  modest  book-keeper  and  cashier  in  an 
Amsterdam  clothing-house,  but  he  became  so  much  interest- 
ed in  the  new  instrument  that  he  set  about  manufacturing 
it  for  his  own  use,  and  making  investigations  therewith. 
Aside  from  the  many  discoveries  he  made,  which  widened 
the  knowledge  of  human  anatomy,  the  discovery  of  the 
spotted,  spiral,  and  scalariform  ducts  in  plants  is  ascribed  to 
him.  He  was  the  first  to  point  out  the  difference  in  structure 
between  the  monocotyledonous  and  dicotyledonous  stem — 
i.  e.,  the  difference  in  stems  of  trees  exemplified  by  the  palm 
and  oak.  These  discoveries  were  made  with  microscopes  of 
his  own  make,  of  which  he  possessed  about  200,  in  manu- 
facturing which  he  displayed  much  skill  and  ability.  If 
this  enterprising  Dutch  investigator  had  had  a  good  educa- 
tion, so  that  he  would  have  worked  systematically,  he  un- 
doubtedly would  have  contributed  even  more  to  the  advance- 
ment of  botany  than  he  did. 

This  period  is  followed  by  one  in  which  classification  re- 
ceived renewed  attention,  this  time  by  Morison,  Ray,  Herr- 
man,  Boerhaave,  G.  A.  Rivinius,  and  others.  Ray,  1703,  and 
Morison,  1715,  accepted  Caesalpinius's  arrangement,  which 
they  supported  and  developed  more  fully.  The  latter  in- 
cluded in  his  method  the  formation  of  the  floral  envelope 
and  its  parts.  Rivinius,  earlier  than  that  (1690),  employed 
as  standard  for  his  system  the  regular  or  irregular  form  of 
the  perianth  or  floral  envelope. 

An  important  progressive  step  in  descriptive  botany  was 
made  also,  at  this  time,  by  Tournefort.  He  was  professor 
of  botany  at  the  botanical  garden  at  Paris,  whence  he  was 
sent  by  the  French  Government  to  Greece  and  Asia  Minor 
to  study  the  floras  of  those  countries.  He  spent  two  years, 
1700-1702,  in  botanical  explorations,  and  brought  back 
with  him  representatives  of  1,300  new  species.  He  also 


180  The  Evolution  of  Botany. 

devised  a  system  for  classification,  based  upon  the  floral  en- 
velopes and  comprising  twenty-three  classes.  Though  his 
system  gave  little  consideration  to  the  natural  relations  of 
plants,  a  work  which  he  wrote,  Institutiones  Eei  Herbaria, 
received  much  recognition  before  Linnaeus's  time.  Tourne- 
fort  was  the  first  before  Linnaeus  to  recognize  the  value  of 
descriptive  botany  in  determining  the  characteristics  of  the 
genera.  The  specific  differences  of  the  genera  he  treated  as 
of  secondary  importance. 

In  1789  an  attempt  was  made  by  Magnol  to  arrange  all 
known  plants  into  real  families.  The  attempt  was  a  success 
to  some  extent.  This  system  comprised  seventy-six  fami- 
lies, each  family  made  up  of  species  which  resembled  each 
other  more  than  those  of  another  family,  especially  in  the 
flower  and  fruit.  All  the  systems  theretofore  established 
had  been  found  wanting,  the  constant  discovery  of  new  spe- 
cies soon  proving  them  to  be  inadequate.  So  with  Magnol's, 
though  it  was  of  some  value  when  first  established.  New 
plants  were  constantly  found  which  could  not  be  included 
in  any  of  the  seventy-six  families  without  disturbing  the 
arrangement  and  rendering  the  system  valueless  even  for 
the  plants  it  included. 

The  fund  of  known  species  was  about  this  time  again 
greatly  increased  by  botanical  explorations  into  distant  parts 
of  the  globe.  The  tropics  especially  opened  up  an  immense 
field  to  botanical  research,  with  an  endless  variety  of  vege- 
tation, in  which  botanists  soon  discerned  the  entire  in- 
adequacy of  all  the  systems  of  classification  established  up 
to  that  time.  Rheede,  Rumph,  and  Kampfer  chose  Asia  as 
their  field  of  labor  and  research,  and  Sloane  and  Plumier, 
Jamaica  and  America,  respectively.  Most  of  the  plants 
Sloane  discovered  and  collected  he  pressed  and  preserved, 
and  finally  described  them  in  a  work  which  treated  of  all 
the  plants  of  Jamaica.  These  plants  constituted  a  goodly 
share  of  his  large  collection  of  natural-history  specimens 
which  latter  he  sold  to  the  English  Government  for  a  paltry 
sum,  but  for  which  he  was  better  repaid  by  his  success  in 
founding  the  British  Museum  with  it.  Plumier  summed 
up  his  work  in  three  books,  one  of  a  descriptive  nature  on 
all  the  plants  he  collected  in  this  country,  another  on  the 
new  .plants  he  found  here,  and  a  third  upon  the  American 
ferns. 

An  important  epoch  in  the  evolution  of  botany  was  the 
founding  of  botanical  gardens  in  the  larger  cities,  where  not 


The  Evolution  of  Botany.  181 

only  the  domestic  but  also  foreign  plants  were  cultivated 
and  their  habits  and  characteristics  studied.  Theretofore 
the  study  of  foreign  plants  was  limited  to  the  favored  few 
who  could  go  to  the  native  habitation  of  the  plant  for  that 
purpose,  but  now  the  many  scientists  in  the  cities  had  equal 
opportunities  for  investigation  and  study.  The  number  of 
men  developing  and  advancing  botany  "became  largely  in- 
creased by  the  introduction  of  botanical  gardens,  which  were 
thus  directly  advantageous  to  the  growth  of  the  science.  It 
is  true  that  before  this  botanical-garden  era  under  question 
there  had  been  a  few  incipient  gardens.  One  at  Salermo 
was  laid  out  by  Matthew  Sylvaticus  in  the  fourteenth  cent- 
ury, which  was  followed  by  one  at  Venice  for  the  cultivation 
of  medicinal  plants.  Both  of  these  were  very  limited  in 
their  number  of  plants  and  contained  few  that  were  not 
medicinal.  The  real  beginning  of  instituting  botanical  gar- 
dens was  coincident  with  the  revival  of  the  sciences.  The 
cities  of  Italy  began  to  compete  for  excellence  in  planning 
and  laying  out  gardens  and  in  the  number  and  variety  of 
plants.  Here,  as  everywhere,  competition  was  a  factor  in 
evolution.  Spain  and  France  soon  followed  the  example  of 
Italy.  In  Ferrara,  the  Duke  Alphonse  Este  was  the  first  to 
found  a  garden,  at  which  he  worked  with  commendable  en- 
ergy and  ambition,  so  that  it  was  in  its  time  recognized  as 
the  first  one  in  Europe.  The  botanical  garden  at  Paris  was 
instituted  in  the  early  part  of  the  sixteenth  century.  Its 
design  and  object  were  not,  however,  to  advance  botany,  but 
to  cultivate  flowers,  from  which  the  royal  dressmakers  might 
take  patterns  wherewith  to  embroider  the  gowns  of  the 
court  ladies  and  to  embellish  the  coats  of  the  court  gentle- 
men. It  was  not  until  many  years  later  that  the  garden  was 
made  a  botanical  one  in  a  scientific  sense,  and  named  "  Jar- 
din  des  Plants,"  a  name  which  it  still  bears.  In  Holland  a 
garden  was  laid  out  as  early  as  the  fifteenth  century,  but 
Germany  was  not  represented  other  than  by  several  private 
ones. 

By  far  the  greatest  eagerness  in  establishing  botanical 
gardens  was  exhibited  in  the  seventeenth  century.  An  ex- 
tensive garden  was  planned  at  Eome  by  Cardinal  Farnese ; 
the  "  Hortus  Cattolicus  "  was  founded  by  Prince  della  Cat- 
tolica  at  Messina ;  the  Kew  Gardens,  by  Queen  Elizabeth ; 
the  Apothecaries'  Garden  at  Chelsea,  for  the  cultivation  of 
medicinal  plants,  by  the  apothecaries  of  London ;  and  the 
botanical  garden  at  Amsterdam,  which  latter  is  to-day  yet 


1S<!  The  Evolution  of  Botany. 

one  of  the  richest  in  Europe.  Many  of  the  universities 
added  botanical  gardens — e.  g.,  those  of  Leipsic,  Breslau, 
Heidelberg,  Giessen,  Kiel,  Jena.  Of  gardens  founded  by 
individuals,  that  of  Bose,  at  Leipsic,  attained  European  re- 
nown. In  the  struggle  for  supremacy  in  botanical  gardens 
England  attained  and  retained  the  lead  in  the  eighteenth 
century.  That  at  Chelsea,  that  of  the  brothers  Sherard  at 
Eltham,  and  the  University  Garden  at  Cambridge,  were  the 
foremost,  not  only  in  the  extent  but  also  in  the  choice  and 
variety  of  plants.  In  the  Netherlands,  the  gardens  of  Lord 
Clifford,  at  Hardecamp,  under  the  management  of  K.  Lin- 
naeus, gained  quite  a  reputation ;  while  the  gardens  at  Turin, 
Pisa,  and  Florence  in  Italy,  and  Madrid  in  Spain,  claimed 
much  attention.  Zurich,  in  Switzerland,  began  to  boast  of 
its  garden  when  it  came  under  the  direction  of  J.  J.  Romer, 
and  Dorpat,  St.  Petersburg,  Wilna,  and  Moscow  soon  fell  in 
line.  Copenhagen,  Lund,  and  Upsala  instituted  gardens, 
which  soon  were  recognized  throughout  Europe.  France 
received  an  additional  one  from  the  Empress  Josephine,  who 
founded  one  at  Malmaison,  which  also  attained  considerable 
repute. 

In  the  latter  part  of  the  eighteenth  century  Germany 
found  nearly  all  of  her  universities  with  botanical  gardens, 
and  now  none  are  without  one.  Berlin,  Munich,  Stuttgart, 
and  Leipsic  are  especially  proud  of  theirs  at  present,  but 
the  largest  and  most  renowned  of  to-day  is  undoubtedly  the 
Kew  Garden,  in  England. 

The  Europeans  are  not  the  only  ones,  however,  rejoicing 
in  the  possession  of  botanical  gardens.  The  evolution  of 
botany  is  marked  by  the  establishment  of  extensive  gardens 
in  Asia  at  Calcutta,  Madras,  Ceylon,  Batayia,  Canton ;  in 
Africa  at  the  Cape,  Mauritius,  on  Teneriffe ;  in  South 
America  in  Bio  Janeiro ;  in  Mexico  at  the  city  of  Mexico ; 
in  Australia  at  Sydney,  Melbourne,  and  Adelaide. 

The  first  botanic  garden  in  America  was  founded  by 
John  Bartram  about  the  year  1730,  and  was  most  beauti- 
fully situated  on  the  right  bank  of  the  Schuylkill  a  short 
distance  below  the  city  of  Philadelphia.  This  garden,  with 
all  its  interesting  history  and  associations,  was  destined  to 
flourish  only  a  little  more  than  a  century.  It  scarcely  sur- 
vived the  immediate  family  of  its  noble-hearted  founder, 
and  the  past  generation  lived  to  see  the  accumulated  treas- 
ures of  a  century  laid  waste.  No  motive  availed,  not  even  a 
feeling  of  State  or  city  pride,  to  insure  its  preservation. 


The  Evolution  of  Botany.  183 

The  second  botanical  garden  established  in  America  was 
that  by  Humphrey  Marshall  in  West  Bradford,  Pennsylvania, 
now  Marshall  ton.  Marshall  had  before  that  indulged  his 
taste  for  botanical  collections  in  cultivating  useful  and  orna- 
mental plants  at  his  father's  residence  near  the  Brandywine. 
His  laudable  example  was  not  without  its  influence  in  the 
community  where  he  resided,  and  among  the  number  of  in- 
cipient botanical  gardens  springing  up  around  him,  those  of 
his  friends  William  Jackson  at  Londongrove  and  Joshua 
and  Samuel  Pierce  of  East  Marlborough,  were  conspicious. 

In  1810  Dr.  Hosack  founded  a  botanical  garden  in  New 
York  upon  the  site  now  occupied  by  the  Columbia  College 
and  surroundings,  but  it  is  only  a  bit  of  history  now. 

A  garden  was  founded  at  Charleston,  S.  C.,  in  1804,  but 
that  too  is  of  the  past. 

The  one  at  Cambridge,  laid  out  in  1805,  was  once  under 
the  skillful  supervision  of  Asa  Gray.  It  is  yet  an  adjunct  of 
which  Cambridge  is  proud. 

St.  Louis  has  a  botanical  garden,  the  Shaw  Garden,  found- 
ed by  Mr.  Shaw  privately,  but  lately  made  public.  It  is 
quite  extensive  and  growing. 

Philadelphia  has  her  Horticultural  Hall  since  the  centen- 
nial exhibition,  and  Baltimore  is  soon  to  have  a  garden. 

The  city  of  New  York,  the  metropolis  of  the  American 
continent,  the  third  now,  soon  to  be  the  second,  city  of  im- 
portance on  the  globe,  the  educational  center  of  America, 
the  home  of  learning  and  knowledge  of  this  country,  is 
without  a  botanical  garden.  May  New  York  and  Brooklyn 
soon  enter  upon  an  era  of  botanical  gardens  and  museums. 

In  order  to  proceed  in  chronological  order,  let  us  go  back 
again  to  the  time  when  botanical  gardens  were  beginning  to 
become  more  numerous.  The  culture  of  foreign  plants  in 
these  gardens  contributed  not  a  little  to  the  progress  of  bot- 
any,  but,  in  the  same  degree  that  botany  was  advancing,  the 
lack  of  an  adequate  comprehensive  form  of  classification  be- 
came more  and  more  felt.  This  want,  and  that  for  a  general 
method  for  nomenclature  (naming  of  plants),  resulted  in 
much  confusion  at  times  when  the  identity  or  names  of 
plants  were  to  be  determined.  This  obstacle  to  the  develop- 
ment of  botany  was  especially  annoying  to  Linnams,  who,  in 
his  endeavors  to  overcome  this  hindrance,  originated  a  system 
(middle  of  the  eighteenth  century)  which  at  the  time  fulfilled 
the  needs  admirably,  and  which  bore  his  name  and  established 
his  renown.  The  system,  though  an  artificial  one,  and  based 


184  The  Evolution  of  Botany. 

upon  the  stamens  and  pistils  only,  was  a  sure  and  convenient 
one,  and  soon  enjoyed  widespread  use  among  botanists  and 
naturalists.  Linnaaus's  greater  merit,  though,  and  because  of 
which  he  was  called  "  the  reformer  of  natural  history,"  was 
in  establishing  fixed  rules  regarding  the  scientific  character- 
istics of  the  species  and  genera,  and  the  correct  terminology 
for  these,  which  have  yet  to-day  their  value. 

Among  the  opposers  of  the  Linnaaan  system  were  such 
botanists  as  Ludwig,  Gleditsch,  Adanson,  and  Jussieu,  none 
of  whom,  however,  had  before  that  a  better  classification 
to  present.  '  Linnaeus  himself  looked  upon  his  system  as 
very  imperfect,  and  he  knew  that  to  invent  a  natural  sys- 
tem of  some  kind  would  be  a  problem  for  future  botanists. 
The  object  of  his  artificial  system  was  merely  to  furnish  a 
simple  and  convenient  method  for  finding  out  the  habitat 
and  name  of  a  plant.  He  compared  his  system  to  a  diction- 
ary, as  it  distributed  plants  according  to  the  number  of 
stamens  and  pistils,  just  as  in  a  dictionary  words  are  ar- 
ranged according  to  their  first  letters. 

Many  of  Linnaeus's  scholars  made  it  their  duty  to  study 
the  floras  of  foreign  lands  as  well  as  that  of  their  own,  and 
Hasselquist,  Forskal,  Lofling,  Pallas,  Brown,  Jacquin,  Com- 
merson,  Burman,  Aublet,  Scopoli,  Pollich,  Leers,  Haller, 
and  Gerard  were  especially  successful  in  their  studies,  about 
which  they  wrote  profusely. 

Lightfoot  investigated  the  flora  of  Scotland,  Oder  and 
Muller  that  of  Denmark,  Gunerus  of  Norway,  Hudson  of 
England,  Martinez  of  Spain,  Sequire  of  Italy,  etc.,  and  all 
contributed  largely  to  the  knowledge  of  the  floras  of  the  re- 
spective countries. 

In  Linnaeus's  time  the  lower  orders  of  plants — the  fungi, 
mushrooms,  toadstools,  mold,  mildew,  algas,  seaweeds,  etc., 
and  mosses — received  detailed  attention  by  Micheli,  Scheuch- 
zer,  and  Dillenius,  who  worked  extensively  in  this  direction. 
Dillenius  examined  most  minutely  the  mosses,  and  elabo- 
rated much  upon  the  little  work  done  theretofore  by  English 
botanists,  who  were  the  only  ones  who  had  worked  in  that 
field  at  all. 

Bauhin's  Pinax  register,  mentioned  before,  contained  only 
50  species,  so  little  attention  had  been  given  to  the  mosses. 
Kay's  synopsis  (1690)  contained  80  species,  and  in  1696  the 
number  had  replied  170.  Dillenius  was  the  first,  however, 
who  considered  and  studied  the  generic  characteristics  of 
these  plants,  and  who  distinguished  them  from  the  fungi. 


The  Evolution  of  Botany.  185 

As  an  illustration  of  Dillenius's  diligence  and  accuracy  may 
be  mentioned  the  fact  that,  in  the  neighborhood  of  Giessen 
alone,  he  discovered  more  than  200  species  of  mosses,  of 
which  140  were  theretofore  unknown.  Of  fungi  he  found 
160,  of  which  90  were  not  known  before. 

About  this  time  is  recorded  the  beginning  of  the  experi- 
mental investigation  into  the  physiology  of  plants,  in  which 
field  St.  Hales  was  the  pioneer.  He  discovered  the  function 
of  the  sap  in  plants,  and  his  experiments  concerning  the  ris- 
ing of  the  sap  in  trees  are  still  celebrated. 

In  the  following  period  the  activity  of  botanists  was  main- 
ly directed  to  the  development  and  application  of  Linnasus's 
system.  The  increasing  and  widening  knowledge  of  species 
was  aided  by  the  publication  and  continuation  of  Linnaeus's 
Genera  and  Species  Plantarum,  to  which  Schreber,  Willde- 
now,  Yahl,  Persoon,  Romer,  Schultes,  Sprengel,  Presl,  D. 
Dietrich,  and  H.  Richter  contributed  largely. 

The  study  of  the  lower  orders  of  plants  was  again  resumed, 
in  the  beginning  of  this  century,  by  Presl,  whose  works  on 
the  grasses  and  ferns  are  very  interesting,  and  by  Persoon 
and  Sprengel,  who  were  the  first  to  describe  the  fungi.  Per- 
soon arranged  and  classified  them  into  species  and  genera. 

Late  in  the  eighteenth  century  Kolreuter  and  Schmidel 
began  to  study  the  organs  of  fructification  of  the  lower  cryp- 
togams (flowerless  plants).  Their  works  were  factors  in 
broadening  the  scope  of  cryptogamous  botany. 

The  introduction  of  Linnseus's  artificial  system  of  classifi- 
cation led  botanists  to  abandon  their  speculations  on  classi- 
fication for  a  while,  to  devote  themselves  to  the  study  of 
plants  individually  again,  and,  as  we  have  seen,  a  period  fol- 
lowed in  which  the  investigation  and  observation  of  scien- 
tists were  directed  to  the  fuller  development  of  the  lower 
orders.  The  higher  orders,  though,  were  not  neglected  in 
the  mean  time,  and  new  plants  were  continually  discovered 
and  new  facts  learned  concerning  those  known.  The  vast 
accumulation  of  known  species  and  the  rapid  development 
botany  was  enjoying  soon  convinced  botanists  that  the  Lin- 
naean  system,  too,  was  becoming  insufficient  to  answer  its 
purpose,  and  that,  sooner  or  later,  a  natural  system  would 
have  to  be  instituted  which  alone  could  ultimately  meet  all 
the  requirements. 

Adanson,  Oder,  and  Gartner  made  several  efforts  to  institute 
such  a  system,  but  all  failed.  Adanson  in  one  of  his  works 
devoted  much  time  and  labor  to  a  system  which  was  con- 


186  The  Evolution  of  Botany. 

spicuous  in  its  lack  of  adaptiveness.  Gartner,  too,  scored 
as  his  reward  for  his  labors  a  signal  failure  in  his  attempt 
at  classification,  in  which  he  employed  the  fruit  and  seed. 
The  value  of  this  system  was  not  in  the  system  itself,  but 
in  its  contribution  to  the  development  of  the  morphology 
(form)  of  the  fruit  and  seed.  Gartner  distinguished  with 
much  clearness  and  accuracy  between  the  spores  of  the 
cryptogams  and  the  seeds  of  the  phanerogams,  and  advanced 
a  theory  regarding  the  seed  which  was  very  comprehensive 
and  with  which  we  are  all  familiar. 

The  first  successful  attempt  at  a  natural  classification  was 
made  by  Antoine  Laurent  de  Jussieu  (1789),  but  his  system 
did  not  receive  recognition  at  once ;  it  was  thirty  years  after 
that  botanists  began  to  appreciate  its  value.  Among  its  ad- 
vocates was  Pyramus  de  Caudolle  (1813),- who,  though  accept- 
ing all  of  Jussieu's  arrangement,  advanced  many  new  ideas 
which  he  embodied  with  Jussieu's  plan.  De  Candolle  was 
a  systematize!'  not  surpassed  by  any  of  his  predecessors  or 
successors.  He  developed  the  theory  and  laws  of  our  pres- 
ent natural  system  largely  with  much  clearness  and  detail. 
He  built  not  alone  upon  Jussieu's  work,  but  based  many  of 
his  ideas  and  views  upon  his  own  investigations  of  the  mor- 
phology of  plants,  which,  in  doing  much  in  aiding  the 
natural  arrangement,  also  became  very  fruitful  to  systematic 
botany.  He  first  established  the  teaching  of  the  nature  of 
the  abortive  and  rudimentary  organs  and  applied  the  correct 
evolutionary  meaning  to  them,  recognizing  also  the  tran- 
sition of  the  organs  into  each  other.  He  noticed,  for  in- 
stance, that  in  the  lily  there  is  very  often  such  a  transition 
between  the  calyx  and  corolla,  or  between  the  corolla  and 
stamens,  that  it  is  difficult  to  tell  to  which  set  of  organs  a 
particular  one  belongs.  In  the  best  of  his  several  works — 
Kegni  Vegetabilis  Systema  Naturale — De  Candolle  arranged 
all  the  phanerogamic  plants  according  to  his  system,  and  de- 
scribed all  genera  and  species  then  known.  '  In  plant  physi- 
ology and  geographical  botany  his  works  are  conspicuous. 

Besides  Jussieu  and  De  Candolle,  there  were  others  who 
endeavored  to  institute  natural  systems ;  among  them  were 
Oken,  Lindley,  Reichenbach,  and  Endlicher.  The  latter,  in 
1838,  was  especially  successful  in  determining  the  natural 
families. 

The  proper  system  of  classification  was  now  arrived  at, 
and,  while  its  development  and  application  were  progressing, 
descriptive  botany,  too,  was  rapidly  advancing.  The  floras 


The  Evolution  of  Botany.  187 

of  the  various  countries  were  under  continual  observation, 
not  only  to  enlarge  the  fund  of  phanerogamic  plants,  but 
more  especially  with  a  view  of  learning  more  about  the 
cryptogams  or  the  lower  orders.  So  Nees  von  Eiseneck, 
Tode,  Bolton,  and  Corda  very  much  increased  our  knowl- 
edge of  the  fungi.  Eiseneck  deserves  much  credit  for  his 
work  in  systematizing  the  fungi.  He  studied  and  elabo- 
rated upon  the  various  stages  of  development  of  sweet- 
water  alga?,  systematized  the  sponges,  and  wrote  the  natural 
history  of  the  liver  mosses. 

The  beginning  of  the  nineteenth  century  found  the  vari- 
ous established  departments  of  botany  receiving  renewed 
attention,  while  a  number  of  new  ones  were  being  founded. 
We  find  a  series  of  botanists  who  made  it  their  duty  to 
study  the  internal  structure  of  plants  more  fully.  Among 
these  may  be  mentioned  Link,  Kudolphi,  Treviranus,  Mol- 
lenhauer,  Sprengel,  Mirbel,  and  others.  Link  was  one  of 
the  most  ardent  phytotomists  of  his  time.  He  contributed 
largely  to  the  knowledge  of  the  way  plants  grow,  and  the 
various  functions  of  the  several  organs.  To  his  untiring 
study  of  the  anatomy  of  plants  we  owe  much  of  our  present 
knowledge  of  the  structure  of  plant  tissue.  He  was  a  pro- 
fuse writer  on  botanical  subjects,  and  his  Elements  of  Plant 
Anatomy  and  Plant  Physiology,  with  a  large  supplement, 
were  masterpieces  of  botanical  work.  Mirbel,  too,  was  one 
of  the  foremost  plant  anatomists  and  physiologists,  direct- 
ing his  attention  mainly  to  the  establishment  of  a  theory 
regarding  the  organization  of  plants,  which  he  published  in 
several  works. 

Sprengel  awakened  much  interest  in  phytotomy  through 
his  studies  regarding  the  various  cells  and  vessels  and  their 
structure.  His  uncle  also  devoted  himself  to  botanical 
studies,  and  discovered  the  mode  of  fructification  of  flowers, 
or  rather  the  ovaries,  by  the  pollen,  conveyed  there  by  the 
wind,  insects,  and  the  many  other  natural  contrivances. 

L.  C.  Treviranus  first  occupied  himsolf  with  phytotomy 
and  plant  physiology,  but  later  lent  his  aid  in  determining 
and  correcting  the  nomenclature  of  the  species.  He  dis- 
covered the  intercellular  spaces  and  the  structure  of  the 
epidermis,  being  the  first  to  interpret  the  function  of  the 
stomata,  or  breathing  pores,  in  the  plant  economy.  In  all 
of  his  works  he  emphasized  and  gave  value  to  evolution  as 
a  factor  in  the  transmutation  of  species.  Much  that  we 
know  of  the  organs  of  fructification  we  owe  to  him  as  well 


188  The  Evolution  of  Botany. 

as  to  Sprengel.  Treviranus's  views  on  phytotomy  seem  to 
have  been  the  basis  for  the  theories  which  Mohl  propounded 
later,  and  which  led  to  his  (Mohl's)  discovering  the  pri- 
mordial utricle.  Mohl,  too,  worked  a  great  deal  with  the 
microscope,  and  published  a  number  of  works  on  the  anat- 
omy of  the  ferns  and  on  the  anatomy  of  the  cycas  and 
palm  stem.  His  scientific  examinations  advanced  every  de- 
partment of  botany,  but  phytotomy  especially.  The  scleren- 
chymatic  tissue  was  the  object  of  the  most  minute  and  suc- 
cessful study  by  him.  Mohl  was  a  thorough  evolutionist, 
who  saw  in  all  things  evidence  in  behalf  of  natural  develop- 
ment. 

The  work  in  microscopical  investigation  having  been  so 
successfully  carried  on,  soon  solicited  the  aid  of  such  scien- 
tists as  Meyen,  Schleiden,  Schwann,  linger,  and  many  others, 
who  continued  the  work,  and  to  whom,  with  the  previous 
workers,  may  be  accredited  the  development  which  plant 
anatomy  has  reached  to-day. 

Plant  physiology,  now  again  taken  up  by  Bonnet,  Saussure, 
Duhamel  du  Monceau,  Dutrochet,  Senebiere,  Knight,  and 
others,  made  big  progressive  strides,  by  the  aid  of  the  fund 
of  anatomical  knowledge,  the  result  of  the  labor  of  the  men 
just  mentioned.  Not  only  in  the  latter  respect  was  physiol- 
ogy advanced,  but  also  very  materially  by  the  development 
and  application  of  chemistry.  Boussingault  and  Liebig,  the 
latter  more  especially,  investigated  the  chemistry  of  plants, 
and  determined  the  chemical  processes  going  on  within 
them.  Liebig  proved  that  plants  needed  certain  chemicals  in 
their  food,  and  showed  how  they  derived  them  from  the  soil. 
The  knowledge  he  thus  gained  led  to  the  use  of  artificial 
fertilizers,  which  restore  the  utility,  for  agricultural  pur- 
poses, of  soil  deprived  of  its  chemical  constituents  by  many 
successive  crops. 

To  Goethe's  views  and  studies  regarding  the  metamor- 
phosis of  the  plant,  and  to  the  works  of  De  Candolle,  Eobert 
Brown,  Schimpers,  A.  Braun,  and  others,  we  owe  the  origin 
and  development  of  the  morphology  of  plants.  A.  Braun 
was  very  diligent  in  his  endeavors  to  develop  plant  mor- 
phology, and  it  was  he  who  discovered  the  regular  arrange- 
ment of  the  leaves  upon  the  stem — phyllotaxis.  The  crypto- 
gamic  morphology  was  the  subject  of  his  late  studies ;  he 
studied  especially  the  characeae.  R.  Brown  busied  himself 
in  the  same  field ;  he  determined  the  morphological  relations 
in  the  organization  of  the  seeds  of  monocotyledonous  and 


The  Evolution  of  Botany.  189 

dicotyledonous  plants,  determined  the  gymnospermous 
character  of  the  Coniferca  and  Cycadacece,  and  studied  the 
nature  of  the  fructification  of  the  ovary  through  the  pol- 
len. 

To  this  period  (beginning  of  the  nineteenth  century)  be- 
longs also  the  origin  of  geographical  botany,  due  to  the  work 
of  A.  v.  Humboldt,  while  Schouw,  \\Tahleiiberg,  Meyen,  A. 
De  Candolle,  Grisebach,  Hooker,  Boissier,  Asa  Gray,  etc., 
developed  this  department.  These  men  studied  the  geo- 
graphical distribution  of  plants  and  the  effects  of  climatic 
changes,  about  which  they  wrote  several  books,  the  works 
of  Grisebach  being  foremost. 

The  paleontology  of  the  vegetable  kingdom,  the  study  of 
the  fossil  remains  of  ancient  vegetable  life,  began  to  be  pur- 
sued about  this  time  by  Brongniart,  Unger,  Goppert,  Sap- 
porta,  A.  Gray,  and  others.  Brongniart,  in  one  of  his  works — 
his  best  one — occupies  himself  with  the  history  of  vegetable 
fossils ;  in  another  he  gives  a  systematic  grouping  of  all  the 
species  known  to  him,  with  their  probable  history  from  pre- 
historic times.  To  this  he  added  a  chronological  view  of  the 
periods  of  vegetation  and  different  floras  in  their  successive 
appearance  upon  the  earth  as  far  as  that  was  possible.  Sap- 
pprta,  a  pupil  of  the  former,  worked  in  the  same  field,  giving 
his  attention  mainly  to  phytopaleontology.  He  wrote  a  num- 
ber of  works  in  which  he  accorded  much  value  to  the  Dar- 
winian theory,  especially  in  his  Evolution  of  the  Vegetable 
Kingdom. 

Goppert  was  one  of  the  most  ardent  workers  in  this  de- 
partment of  botany ;  he  had  made  a  very  large  collection  of 
fossil  plants  which  he  compared  in  many  works  with  the 
same  species  of  to-day,  bringing  the  Darwinian  theory  of 
transmutation  to  bear  fruit.  The  formation  of  coal-beds"  was 
also  a  subject  of  his  study.  Goppert's  Index  Paleontologi- 
cum,  a  classification  of  all  known  fossil  plants,  with  complete 
synonymic,  published  in  1850,  is  still  the  best  work  of  its 
kind. 

Structural  and  systematic  botany,  the  latter  more  espe- 
cially, enjoyed  a  goodly  share  of  attention  in  the  present 
century  by  a  host  of  botanists,  among  whom  Asa  Gray  and 
A.  Wood  rank  foremost  among  the  Americans.  (See  So- 
ciology, p.  339.) 

By  the  rapid  advancement  of  the  various  departments  of 
botany,  they  of  necessity  were  made  to  occupy  the  rank  for- 
merly held  by  descriptive  botany,  although  the  latter  was 


190  The  Evolution  of  Botany. 

never  underestimated  during  the  progress  of  development 
of  the  other  departments. 

A  special  word  about  the  American  botanists  and  their 
work  will  be  in  order.  One  of  the  earliest,  if  not  the  first, 
description  of  North  American  plants  w#s  by  a  French  bot- 
anist, Jac.  Cornubus,  who,  it  is  believed,  never  was  in  Amer- 
ica, but  described  the  plants  from  specimens  sent  to  him 
from  Canada. 

John  Josselyn  published  in  1672  a  work  called  New  Eng- 
land Earities.  His  book  is  interesting  in  its  statement  that 
"  barley  frequently  degenerates  into  oats." 

In  1680  the  Rev.  John  Banister  wrote  the  Catalogue  of 
Plants  of  Virginia. 

John  Bartram,  the  founder  of  the  first  botanical  garden 
in  America,  investigated  the  plants  of  America  with  inde- 
fatigable labor  through  a  long  course  of  years,  and  with 
amazing  success.  He  probably  detected  and  described  more 
plants  than  any  of  his  contemporaries. 

Dr.  Cadwallader  Golden,  an  able  and  sagacious  botanist, 
collected  and  described  the  plants  in  the  region  around  his 
residence — Coldenham,  near  Newburg,  N.  Y. — and  published 
his  PlantaB  Coldenhamige  in  1744.  Dr.  Colden  had  a  com- 
panion and  assistant  worthy  of  special  commendation  in  his 
accomplished  daughter  Jane.  She  was  the  pioneer  woman 
botanist  of  this  country.  In  a  letter  from  the  distinguished 
botanist,  Peter  Collinson,  to  Linnaeus,  the  former  writes: 
"  I  but  lately  heard  from  Mr.  Colden.  He  is  well ;  but, 
what  is  marvelous,  his  daughter  is  perhaps  the  first  lady 
that  has  so  perfectly  studied  your  system.  She  deserves  to 
be  celebrated."  In  another:  "Last  week  my  friend,  Mr. 
Ellis,  wrote  you  a  letter  recommending  a  curious  botanic 
dissertation  by  Miss  Jane  Colden.  As  this  accomplished 
lady  is  the  only  one  of  the  fair  sex  that  I  have  heard  of  who 
is  scientifically  skillful  in  the  Linnaean  system,  you  no  doubt 
will  distinguish  her  merits,  and  recommend  her  example 
to  the  ladies  of  every  country." 

Dr.  John  Mitchell,  Dr.  A.  Garden,  Dr.  A.  Kuhn,  Hum- 
phrey Marshall,  Dr.  Hosack,  Dr.  Cutler,  Thomas  Walter,  and 
Will  Bartram,  all  wrote  descriptions  of  local  floras.  B.  S. 
Barton,  Rev.  Dr.  Muhlenberg,  De  Beauvois,  and  others  be- 
gan to  contribute  valuable  papers  on  botany  to  the  Trans- 
actions of  the  American  Philosophical  Society  toward  the 
end  of  the  eighteenth  century.  Thomas  Nuttall  also  con- 
tributed to  the  Transactions. 


The  Evolution  of  Botany.  191 

In  1803  the  first  elementary  work  on  botany  was  written 
by  Prof.  D.  S.  Barton.  About  this  time  President  Jeffer- 
son projected  an  expedition,  under  Messrs.  Clark  and  Lewis, 
across  this  continent  to  the  Pacific.  This  was  a  means  of 
introducing  to  the.  knowledge  of  botanists  a  number  of 
plants  which  were' previously  unknown,  though  the  princi- 
pal collection  made  by  these  explorers  was  lost.  That 
region  was  subsequently  explored  and  vast  additions 'made 
to  our  flora  by  Messrs.  Nuttall,  Nicolet,  Fremont,  and 
others. 

Dr.  Samuel  L.  Mitchell,  Michaux  (at  Paris),  Major  John' 
Le  Conte,  F.  Pursh,  Dr.  Jacob  Bigelow,  C.  S.  Rafinesque, 
Dr.  W.  P.  C.  Barton,  Dr.  George  Sumner,  Rev.  Lewis  David 
von  Schweiiiitz,  and  Stephen  Elliott  contributed  papers 
on  botany  to  the  various  scientific  journals.  S.  Elliott 
published  the  Sketch  of  the  Botany  of  South  Carolina  and 
Georgia,  a  work  of  value  and  indispensable  in  the  investi- 
gation of  Southern  plants.  Dr.  William  Baldwin  aided  in 
its  preparation. 

In  1819  Dr.  John  Torrey,  with  others,  published  a  Cata- 
logue of  Plants  growing  within  Thirty  Miles  of  the  City  of 
New  York,  and  in  1826  a  Compendium  of  the  Flora  of  the 
Middle  and  Northern  States,  and  later  several  other  works. 
We  are  much  indebted  to  the  labors  of  Menzies,  Fraser, 
Lyon,  Bradbury,  Scouler,  Richardson,  Dr.  F.  Boott,  Dr.  J. 
A.  Brereton,  Prof.  Short,  Dr.  Beck,  J.  Bachman,  Rev.  M. 
A.  Curtis,  Prof.  John  L.  Riddell,  Edward  Hitchcock,  Dr. 
John  Torrey,  H.  B.  Groom,  Dr.  W.  E.  A.  Aikin,  J.  A.  Lapham, 
W.  S.  Sullivant,  Dr.  George  Engelman,  Edward  Tuckerman, 
S.  T.  Olney,  and  many  more.  These  botanists  all  wrote 
papers  on  or  catalogues  of  the  floras  of  the  various  locali- 
ties surrounding  their  homes,  or  of  entire  States. 

About  1820  many  of  the  schools  began  to  teach  botany, 
and  soon  a  demand  for  suitable  books  arose.  Among  the 
most  successful  which  appeared  was  the  Manual  compiled 
by  Prof.  Amos  Eaton,  of  Troy.  In  1842  Asa  Gray  published 
his  Botanical  Text-Book,  and  in  1845  Alphonso  Wood  pub- 
lished his  Class-Book  of  Botany.  Since  then  numerous 
botanists  have  engaged  in  botanical  studies  and  made  con- 
tributions to  the  science.  Cook,  Schrench,  Coulder,  Bastin, 
Rusby,  and  others  are  able  botanists  of  to-day. 

We  see  that  America  has  and  had  several  botanists  who 
have  done  considerable  original  work  in  botany,  but  we  all 
must  acknowledge  that  we  are  decidedly  behind  European 


192  The  Evolution  of  Botany. 

countries  in  this  respect.  Prof.  "W.  G.  Farlow,  in  a  paper 
read  before  the  American  Society  of  Naturalists,  candidly 
confesses  that  American  botanists  are  not  up  to  the  Euro- 
pean in  original  research.  This,  he  thinks,  is  not  due  to 
lack  of  talent,  qualification,  or  inclination  among  our  bota- 
nists for  research,  but  he  attributes  it  rather  to  lack  of  op- 
portunity. Those  most  eminently  fitted  are  for  the  most 
part  teachers,  and  in  this  country  the  demands  upon  the 
teacher  are  such  that  but  little  time  and  strength  is  left 
from  the  duties  of  teaching  to  carry  on  original  researches. 
In  Germany  the  greater  part  of  the  work  of  laboratory  in- 
struction is  committed  to  assistants,  while  the  professors 
are  free  to  carry  on  important  investigations  which  advance 
scientific  knowledge  and  give  luster  to  the  institutions  to 
which  they  belong.  In  America  there  is  no  due  appreci- 
ation of  the  importance  of  endowing  scientific  research ; 
hence  the  problems  that  ought  to  be  solved  by  American 
botanists  are  left  to  be  solved  by  Germans  or  other  Euro- 
peans, working  at  a  great  disadvantage.  Efforts  should  be 
made  to  create  public  sentiment  favoring  the  endowment  of 
original  research. 

Botanical  investigations  and  researches  are  continuing  in 
the  various  departments,  the  morphology,  anatomy,  and 
physiology  of  plants  receiving  the  greatest  attention.  The 
theory  of  evolution ;  the  laws  governing  the  growth  of  the 
various  organs  and  their  deviation  from  the  normal  pattern ; 
the  molecular  structure  of  the  constituents  of  plant  cells ;  the 
influence  of  environment  upon  plants ;  the  intimate  study  of 
the  fructification  of  the  ovary ;  the  application  of  chemistry 
to  the  determination  and  separation  of  the  active  medicinal 
constituents ;  the  laws  of  heredity  and  variation ;  the  circum- 
scribed areas  for  certain  plants  and  causes ;  the  migration  of 
plants,  both  terrestrial  and  celestial,  and  its  causes ;  habita- 
tion in  relation  to  composition,  structure,  and  heredity ;  the 
relation  of  insects  and  plants  to  color  and  form ;  geological 
distribution  compared  to  modern  movements  of  plants,  etc. — 
are  subjects  of  present  attention.  A  like  activity  is  mani- 
fested in  the  study  of  the  lower  orders,  of  the  fungi  espe- 
cially, and  extensive  work  is  being  done  in  microscopical 
botany  generally,  including  bacteriological  botany. 

The  study  of  the  diseases  of  plants  and  their  treatment — 
plant  pathology — especially  of  the  cultivated  and  useful 
ones,  and  plant  teratology  (the  study  of  malformations  and 
monstrosities),  are  also  receiving  detailed  attention,  and 


The  Evolution  of  Botany.  193 

laboratories  for  the  physiological,  anatomical,  morphologi- 
cal, and  pathological  study  of  plants  can  now  be  found  in 
all  the  great  institutions  of  learning.  In  short,  all  depart- 
ments of  botany  are  being  developed  with  the  accelerating 
rapidity  indicative  of  our  present  time. 

We  have  thus  briefly  traced  the  historic  evolution  of 
botany  from  the  earliest  time — the  time  of  its  origin,  which 
must  have  been  contemporaneous  with  the  beginning  of 
man's  cognizing  powers — through  the  different  phases  of  its 
growth  up  to  the  present  time. 

We  have  seen  how  it  originated  simultaneously  with 
medicine,  or  rather  how  its  origin  and  early  growth  were 
dependent  upon  the  growth  of  medicine  at  "first,  and  how 
afterward  the  growth  of  medicine  was  largely  dependent 
upon  the  development  of  botany,  especially  after  the  discov- 
ery of  the  active  medicinal  constituents  of  plants. 

We  learned  that  descriptive  botany  was  necessarily  the 
first  department,  and  that  as  the  number  of  known  plants 
began  to  increase,  classification  became  a  necessity,  and  that 
through  many  centuries  various  arrangements  had  been 
devised,  each  one  succumbing  to  its  successor,  until  finally 
our  present  one  was  arrived  at. 

We  have  reviewed  the  beneficent  results  for  botany  which 
the  invention  of  the  microscope  brought  about;  how  the 
knowledge  of  the  internal  structure,  the  anatomy  of  plants, 
was  gained  through  its  application  and  use,  and  how  plant 
anatomy  gradually  served  to  develop  plant  physiology. 

We  learned  of  the  many  botanical  explorations  to  the 
various  countries,  and  how  these  opened  up  vast  fields  for 
the  labor  and  research  of  botanists,  and  how,  in  order  to 
facilitate  and  cultivate  the  study  of  botany,  botanical  gar- 
dens were  instituted  in  the  large  cities  where  the  nature 
and  habits  of  foreign  plants  could  be  observed  as  well  as  in 
their  native  habitation.  Then  the  cryptogams  began  to 
occupy  the  attention  of  botanists  for  a  time,  while  morphol- 
ogy and  systematic  botany  began  to  be  developed,  the  other 
departments  steadily  advancing  in  the  mean  time.  Then 
followed  a  series  of  important  discoveries  in  the  physiology 
of  plants,  and  the  application  of  chemistry  was  very  helpful 
to  the  progress  of  the  science.  Geological  and  paleontologi- 
cal  botany  were  next  instituted,  together  with  pathological 
botany,  and  all  the  departments  are  now  in  progress  of  still 
further  development. 

The  history  of  botany  is  thus  a  veritable  exposition  of 
14 


194  The  Evolution  of  Botany. 

the  law  of  evolution.  It  shows  the  promiscuity  and  non- 
coherence  of  all  early  botanic  work,  and  shows  how  indefinite 
the  knowledge  it  conveyed  was  concerning  the  vegetable 
world  as  a  whole;  how  before  Jussieu  the  roots  of  the 
science  consisted  in  a  lot  of  arts  and  discrete  discoveries, 
which,  like  roots,  worked  in  the  dark  so  far  as  scientific 
principle  goes.  With  Jussieu  the  stem  of  the  evolving  tree 
made  its  appearance,  and  after  him  we  find  the  stem  grown 
into  a  trunk,  with  branches  spreading,  and  all  united  as  an 
organic  whole  in  a  tree  of  botanical  knowledge. 

The  survival  of  the  fittest  is  well  illustrated  in  the  sur- 
vival of  the  natural  over  the  other  classifications.  Its 
survival  is  intrinsically  a  most  striking  exemplification  of 
evolution  in  that  it  arranges  all  plants  according  to  the 
plan  by  which  the  vegetable  creation  evolved.  The  birth 
of  botany  as  a  science  began  with  the  development  of  the 
natural  classification,  and  it  is  pleasing  to  notice  the  cohe- 
sion in  thought  Avhich  at  once  set  in  relating  organically  all 
plant  life.  The  amassing  of  knowledge  which  followed 
forced  the  division  of  labor  among  botanists  —  a  change 
from  homogeneity  to  heterogeneity. 

In  conclusion,  there  is  only  time  to  allude,  and  in  a  gen- 
eral way,  to  the  importance  of  botany  to  human  life  and 
well-being.  If  the  hearer  will  let  pass  in  review  in  his 
mind  all  that  which  contributes  to  his  needs  and  comfort 
in  his  daily  life,  and  select  that  directly  dependent  upon 
our  present  knowledge  of  botany,  he  can  better  comprehend 
the  importance  of  this  science  to  his  comfort  and  well-being 
than  words  would  enable  him  to  do. 

The  production  of  most  of  our  food  is  the  direct  result 
of  our  knowledge  of  agricultural  botany,  while  much  of  our 
clothing  is  due  to  the  discovery  that  the  flax  and  other 
plants  yield  a  fiber  which  may  be  woven  into  fabrics  suitable 
for  a  thousand  purposes  directly  increasing  our  comforts. 
The  greater  part  of  our  materia  medica — that  vast  number 
of  medicinal  bodies  which  alleviate  bodily  ailment  and  con- 
tribute to  the  maintenance  and  prolongation  of  bodily 
health — is  due  to  our  knowledge  of  the  medicinal  properties 
and  of  the  active  constituents  of  plants.  Botany  is,  in 
short,  the  underlying  basis  of  much  of  our  wealth  and  com- 
fort, and,  aside  from  the  aid  it  affords  to  horticulture  and 
to  the  healing  art,  it  claims  a  large  share  of  the  attention  of 
every  individual  for  the  moral  and  intellectual  culture  which 
it  is  capable  of  imparting  in  an  eminent  degree.  To  the 


The  Evolution  of  Botany.  195 

lover  of  nature  no  other  department  of  the  natural  sciences 
affords  more  pleasure  in  its  study  than  botany,  and  I  can 
not  think  of  a  more  fit  closing  than  repeating  the  words  of 
Alphonso  Wood :  "  No  science  more  effectually  combines 
pleasure  with  improvement  than  botany.  It  conducts  the 
student  into  the  field  and  forest,  amid  the  verdure  of  spring 
and  the  bloom  of  summer;  to  the  charming  retreats  of 
Nature,  in  her  wild  luxuriance,  or  where  she  patiently 
smiles  under  the  improving  hand  of  cultivation.  It  fur- 
nishes him  with  vigorous  exercise,  both  of  body  and  mind, 
which  is  no  less  salutary  than  agreeable,  and  its  subjects  of 
investigation  are  all  such  as  are  adapted  to  please  the  eye, 
refine  the  taste,  and  improve  the  heart." 


196  The  Evolution  of  Botany. 


ABSTRACT   OF   THE    DISCUSSION. 

Da.  ROBERT  G.  ECCLES  : 

In  the  absence  of  Prof.  Ridenour,  who  had  been  appointed  to  open 
the  discussion,  DP.  Eccles  was  called  upon  by  the  president,  and,  said, 
in  substance :  I  desire  to  thank  the  lecturer  for  the  condensed  and 
admirable  account  of  the  evolution  of  botanical  science  which  he  has 
given  us.  I  do  not  know  that  such  a  succinct  and  correct  statement 
of  the  history  of  botany  can  be  found  elsewhere  in  the  literature  of 
that  subject.  In  one  sense  botany  antedates  historical  knowledge, 
and  butterflies  show  an  earlier  knowledge  of  plants  than  man  can 
boast.  As  a  science,  however,  botany  is  of  more  recent  growth.  In 
the  investigation  of  such  subjects,  one  thing  that  strikes  the  student 
of  nature  is  that  everything  in  nature  follows  a  single  law  of  growth, 
progressing  from  homogeneity  to  heterogeneity,  the  same  law  that  we 
see  exemplified  in  its  simplest  form  in  the  growth  of  a  tree  or  shrub. 
Everything  spreads,  as  it  were,  from  a  single  trunk  into  branches, 
limbs,  and  twigs.  We  find  the  same  principle  illustrated  in  the  form 
of  the  human  body  and  in  the  structure  of  the  brain — in  the  branch- 
ing of  the  nerves  from  their  central  spinal  axis — which  is  everywhere 
found  in  the  plant  world.  The  same  phenomenon  has  even  been  ob- 
served in  the  lightning  flash.  When  photographed,  instead  of  pre- 
senting the  appearance  of  a  single  line  of  light,  it  appears  as  if  differ- 
entiated into  tree-like  branches.  This  principle  of  differentiation  is 
also  exemplified  in  the  evolution  of  the  science  of  botany.  At  first,  as 
we  have  been  told,  our  knowledge  of  plant-life  was  vague,  homogene- 
ous, and  protoplasmic,  consisting  only  in^ the  recognition  of  certain 
familiar  descriptive  characteristics  of  well-known  plants.  As  the 
science  developed,  its  several  departments  were  integrated  and  special- 
ized. Now  no  single  botanist  can  be  a  master  of  all  branches  of  the 
science.  He  can  acquire  eminence  only  by  perfecting  himself  in  some 
one  special  department  of  research.  The  study  of  botany  thus  leads 
steadily  up  to  evolution.  Unless  God  designed  to  deceive  the  whole 
world,  it  is  clear  that  the  doctrine  of  evolution  must  be  true. 

In  enumerating  the  botanical  text-books  published  in  this  country, 
I  think  mention  should  be  made  of  the  valuable  manual  prepared  by 
Miss  Eliza  A.  Youmans,  now  a  corresponding  member  of  this  associ- 
ation. 


The  Evolution  of  Botany.  197 

MB.  JAMES  A.  SKILTON  : 

Mr.  Wulling  has  made  it  evident  to  us,  in  his  thorough  but  con- 
densed review,  that  the  historic  development  of  botany  as  a  science  has 
gone  on  coincidently  with  historic  evolution  in  society  and  with  all 
human  progress  during  the  last  three  hundred  years.  It  is  an  impor- 
tant lesson  for  us  also  to  learn  that  the  evolution  of  botany  has  been  co- 
ordinate as  well  as  coincident  with  evolution  and  progress.  Then  the 
question  follows :  What  will  be  the  future  history  of  botany,  its  evo- 
lution, and  its  co-ordinations?  Prof.  Mason,  of  the  National  Museum 
at  Washington,  has  recently  called  attention  to  the  fact  that,  as  a  re- 
sult of  our  method  of  treatment,  plant-life  in  the  United  States  has 
declined  in  vitality  and  capacity  for  production,  and  that  we  have  as  a 
result  a  coincident  and  co-ordinate  tendency  toward  barbaric  condi- 
tions of  individual  and  societary  life.  It  is  by  no  means  a  new  thought 
that  plant-life  and  its  conditions  have  important  relations  to  and  with 
the  moral  status  and  general  conditions  of  humanity.  When  Adam 
and  Eve  were  driven  from  Eden  the  ground  also  was  cursed,  and  it 
was  said  of  it :  "  Thorns  and  thistles  shall  it  bring  forth  to  thee." 
Now,  botanical  science  teaches  us  that  "  thorns  "  and  "  thistles  "  are  the 
product  of  arrested  development ;  and  evolution,  as  well  as  "  revelation," 
teaches  us  that  human  life  and  plant-life  are  so  related  in  their  to- 
tality that  they  prosper  or  fail  to  prosper  together.  And  certainly 
no  one  who  has  seen  and  studied  an  "  old  field  "  cotton  plantation 
can  fail  to  realize  that  land  can  be  "  cursed  "  by  some  one — God  or 
man. 

A  United  States  senator,  discussing  years  ago  a  question  concern- 
ing the  introduction  of  free  institutions  into  the  West  Indies,  said, 
"  Beware  of  the  tropics."  So  long  as  we  can  not  manage  the  plant- 
life  of  the  temperate  zone  without  drifting  into  barbaric  conditions  or 
tendencies,  the  legend  is  doubtless  a  wise  one.  But  if  the  human 
race  is  to  realize  in  fact  the  high  development  which  evolution  already 
foretells  as  possible,  it  will  need  to  learn  how  to  utilize  all  that  the 
enormous  and  various  plant  capacity  and  production  of  the  tropics,  as 
well  as  of  the  other  zones,  is  preparing  and  keeping  in  store  for  it. 

From  this  point  of  view  it  must  be  evident  that,  great  as  has  been 
development  of  the  past,  a  compendium  of  which  we  have  had  pre- 
sented to  us  to-night,  the  evolution  of  this  science  and  of  its  cognate 
sciences  can  hardly  be  said  to  have  yet  begun. 

DR.  LEWIS  G-.  JANES: 

I  am  glad  that  the  lecturer  has  called  attention  to  the  fact  that  it  is 
impossible  for  investigators  to  become  eminent  in  any  department  of 


198  The  Evolution  of  Botany. 

original  research  while  they  are  tied  up  to  the  routine  of  class-work  in 
our  schools  and  colleges.  You  will  remember  that  Miss  Youmans  em- 
phasized this  fact  last  year  in  her  paper  upon  Asa  Gray.  We  need 
teachers  in  botany  and  in  the  other  sciences  who  will  do  more  than 
merely  instruct  their  pupils  in  the  contents  of  text-books — in  what  has 
already  become  common  knowledge.  We  want  teachers  who  shall  be 
discoverers — masters  in  the  field  of  original  research — and  who  shall 
inspire  others  to  this  high  order  of  work.  This  result  can  only  be  se- 
cured by  emancipating  our  best  men — and  women,  too — from  mere 
routine  work,  by  insuring  them  a  competence,  and  bidding  them  de- 
vote their  best  energies  to  original  investigation.  I  hope  the  time  will 
come  when  our  men  of  wealth  will  not  only  endow  libraries  and  museums 
and  college  lectureships,  but  will  give  generously  in  support  of  original 
scientific  research.  Science  is  the  fertile  mother  of  progress — the  foun- 
dation of  our  modern  civilization.  In  no  way  can  humanity  be  helped 
more  effectively  than  by  stimulating  its  beneficent  conquests.  It  is 
one  of  our  objects  as  an  association,  and  by  means  of  these  lectures,  to 
create  a  public  opinion  which  shall  demand  the  generous  support  of 
original  scientific  investigation.  America,  as  the  lecturer  has  said,  is 
behind  Europe  in  this  respect,  but  no  country  owes  more  to  science 
than  America,  none  has  more  to  expect  in  the  future  from  the  results 
of  scientific  progress.  Let  the  wealth  of  America,  therefore,  be  freely 
given  in  this  behalf. 

COL.  WILLIAM  HEMSTREET: 

It  would  seem  that  the  microscope  applied  to  botanical  studies 
should  bring  us  very  near  to  the  secret  of  Nature  as  to  the  origin  of 
life — its  development  out  of  inorganic  matter.  I  should  like  to  ask  of 
any  one  competent  to  answer  the  question,  whether  any  of  the  bota- 
nists eminent  in  microscopical  investigations  have  observed  the  spon- 
taneous generation  of  living  organisms! 

DR.  JANES: 

The  result  of  the  most  careful  research  thus  far  goes  to  prove  that 
spontaneous  generation,  or  abiogenesis,  as  a  present  fact,  has  not  been 
demonstrated.  Some  eminent  evolutionists,  as  Prof.  Le  Conte,  go  so 
far  as  to  assert  that  the  law  of  evolution,  even  assuming  spontaneous 
generation  as  a  fact  of  the  past,  necessarily  makes  it  impossible  under 
existing  conditions ;  we  have  gone  on  beyond  that  stage  in  biological 
development.  Bastian  and  others  have  claimed  abiogenesis  as  an  ex- 
isting fact,  but  their  experiments,  in  my  judgment,  were  not  sufficiently 
guarded  to  warrant  the  acceptance  of  their  conclusions.  I  suppose  all 
consistent  evolutionists  believe  that  somehow  life  began  by  an  entirely 


The  Evolution  of  Botany.  199 

natural  process ;  but  how  and  when  that  event  occurred  is  now  beyond 
our  ken. 

Ma.  WULLING  sustained  Dr.  Janes  in  his  reply  to  Col.  Hemstreet, 
and  thanked  the  audience  and  critics  for  their  kind  reception  of  his 
paper. 


ZOOLOGY  AS  RELATED  TO 
EVOLUTION 


JOHN  C.  KIMBALL 

AUTHOR  OF  EVOLUTION  OF  ARMS  AND  ARMOR,  ETC. 


COLLATERAL  READINGS  SUGGESTED: 

Spencer's  Principles  of  Biology  and  Factors  of  Organic  Evolution  ; 
Darwin's  Origin  of  Species ;  Wallace's  Contributions  to  the  Theory  of 
Natural  Selection,  Island  Life,  Tropical  Nature,  and  Darwinism ;  Wil- 
son's Facts  and  Fictions  of  Zoology ;  Huxley's  Crayfish :  an  Introduc- 
tion to  the  Study  of  Zoology,  Evolution  in  Biology,  and  Man's  Place 
in  Nature;  Karl  Semper's  Animal  Life  as  affected  by  the  Natural 
Conditions  of  Existence ;  Carpenter's  Nature  and  Man,  and  Biograph- 
ical Essays;  Romanes's  Animal  Intelligence;  Haeckel's  Pedigree  of 
Man  and  other  essays ;  Lotze's  Microcosmus ;  Cope's  Origin  of  the 
Fittest ;  Whewell's  History  of  the  Inductive  Sciences ;  McRae's  Fa- 
thers of  Biology ;  Cuvier's  The  Animal  Kingdom ;  Murphy's  Habit 
and  Intelligence ;  Nicholson's  The  Eights  of  Animals  ;  Powell's  Our 
.  Heredity  from  God. 


ZOOLOGY  AS  RELATED  TO  EVOLUTION. 

BY  JOHN  C.  KIMBALL. 

MAN  has  always  had  a  deep  interest  in  animals.  When 
he  first  woke  to  consciousness  from  the  sleep  of  his  own 
brute  infancy  in  the  early  morning  of  the  world's  day,  pos- 
sibly its  Tertiary  hour,  he  found  them  already  risen  before 
him,  a  habit  of  precedence  they  still  keep  up,  crawling  as 
insects  over  his  face,  singing  as  birds  in  his  ear,  sporting  as 
quadrupeds  at  his  side.  The  oldest  works  of  art  found  on 
earth,  Pre-raphaelite  by  at  least  two  hundred  thousand 
years,  as  well  as  in  other  qualities,  are  etchings  of  their 
forms  on  plates  of  reindeer  horn  exhumed  from  anteglacial 
caves ;  and  the  liking  for  them  and  for  pictures  and  stories 
about  them,  and  the  aptness  for  getting  acquainted  with 
them  which  all  children  exhibit  to-day,  are  but  the  individ- 
ual child  repeating  in  himself,  according  to  a  well-known 
law  of  evolution,  the  intimacy  and  wonder  for  them  which 
he  learned  originally  in  his  childhood  as  a  race.  How  close 
ever  since  have  been  his  relations  with  them,  how  impress- 
ive to  him  their  instincts  and  intelligence,  so  like  yet  unlike 
his  own,  how  many  and  varied  their  contributions  to  the 
beauty  and  glory  of  his  dwelling-place  and  to  the  comfort 
and  joy  of  himself  !  Beneath  all  outward  differences  they 
have  been  his  fellow  -  citizens  in  the  great  kingdom  of 
Nature,  his  inevitable  neighbors  and  associates,  if  not  his 
recognized  blood-relations,  in  the  great  family  of  life.  Dele- 
gations of  them  have  toiled  with  him  at  the  plow,  hunted 
with  him  in  the  chase,  fed  with  him  at  the  table,  played 
with  him  at  the  fireside,  traveled  with  him  in  the  journey, 
fought  with  him  on  the  battle-field.  All  the  deeper  experi- 
ences of  his  own  existence — birth,  growth,  pain,  pleasure, 
love's  thrill,  and  death's  agony — he  has  seen  repeated  in 
them.  Language  is  filled  with  expressions  for  the  qualities 
and  activities  they  have  in  common — men,  wolfish  and  foxy; 
bulls  and  bears  in  Wall  Street ;  camels, "  ships  of  the  desert  ; 
and  ships  in  their  turn  "  ocean  greyhounds."  Great  nations 
have  used  them  as  the  emblems  of  their  power — made  them 
play  what  a  part  in  history  as  the  Koman  eagles,  the  British 


204  Zoology  as  Related  to  Evolution. 

lion,  and  the  Russian  bear !  Poetry  has  found  in  them  some 
of  its  most  suggestive  themes,  soaring  with  them  how  loftily 
in  Bryant's  Waterfowl,  singing  with  them  how  sweetly  in 
Shelley's  Skylark,  running  with  them  how  gracefully  in 
Cowper's  Hares,  swinging  with  them  how  enchantingly  in 
Lowell's  June  bird  "  atilt  like  a  blossom  among  the  leaves," 
and  galloping  with  them  how  gloriously  in  Sheridan's  steed 
bearing  its  rider  and  victory  to  Cedar  Creek  and  a  flying 
army  thirty  miles  away !  Who  would  lose  out  of  fiction 
Ulysses's  faithful  dog,  or  the  lesson-teaching  asses,  apes,  and 
foxes  of  ^Esop's  Fables,  or  Don  Quixote's  Rozinante,  or  the 
Cid's  Bavieca,  or  Scott's  The  Antlered  Monarch  of  the 
Waste,  or  Dickens's  Boxer  and  Jip,  or  Poe's  croaking  Raven, 
or,  later,  Mrs.  Sewell's  Black  Beauty,  or  even  Mary's  Little 
Lamb  ?  With  what  a  wealth  of  vigor  and  grace  they  have 
lent  themselves  to  painting  in  the  canvas  of  Landseer  and 
of  Rosa  Bonheur,  and  to  sculpture  in  such  marbles  as  The 
Plunging  Horses  and  The  Farnese  Bull !  Astronomy  has 
taken  them  as  its  helper  into  the  far-off  skies,  bidding  the 
North  forever  know  its  place  with  a  Great  and  Little  Bear, 
covering  the  earth  in  its  cool  autumn  nights  with  an  Eagle's 
starry  wings  and  establishing  in  the  solemn  heavens  the 
never-stopping  merry-go-round  of  its  Zodiacal  Ram,  Bull, 
Crab,  Lion,  Scorpion,  Goat,  and  Fishes.  And  even  in  the 
midst  of  Religion's  grand  service  and  majestic  thoughts 
they  have  occupied  how  large  a  place  both  as  the  victims 
offered  the  gods  and  as  the  very  gods  they  were  offered  to — 
even  in  our  Christian  faith  have  borne  on  their  backs  what 
mighty  doctrines  as  the  Serpent,  the  Worm,  the  Dove,  the 
Lion  of  Judah,  and  the  Lamb  of  God  ! 

It  is  out  of  this  great  wonder  realm  of  animal  life,  asso- 
ciated with  man  in  so  many  ways  and  of  which  he  himself 
is  so  vital  a  part,  that  Zoology  has  arisen,  seeking  to  arrange 
its  objects,  to  discover  their  structure,  relations,  and  laws,  and 
to  get  at  their  cause  and  reason.  There  is  no  other  branch 
of  science  which  alike  in  its  materials  and  in  itself  is  so  full 
of  interest,  no  other  which  embodies  so  completely  the  great 
world-wide  principles  of  evolution  and  on  the  field  of  which 
the  battles  against  it  have  been  so  fierce  and  the  victories 
for  it  so  brilliant,  no  other  which  lets  the  student  in  so 
close  to  the  very  workshop  and  elbow  of  Nature  and  so  near 
to  the  great  mystery  of  life,  no  other  which  opens  so  sug- 
gestively into  the  whole  philosophy  of  man's  own  being, 
both  physical  and  mental,  individual  and  social,  as  this ;  and 


Zoology  as  Related  to  Evolution.  205 

a  lecture  devoted  not  so  much  to  its  details,  needing  years 
of  study,  as  to  its  growth  and  larger  teachings  and  to  its 
bearing  on  these  other  themes,  may  have  its  modest  place, 
even  when  the  lecturer's  qualification  for  it  is  only  a  love 
about  equally  divided  between  its  outside  live  objects  and 
its  inside  live  truths. 

I.  Looked  at  historically,  the  growth  of  the  science  itself 
has  been  along  the  direct  lines  not  only  of  evolution,  but  of 
evolution  in  its  Darwinian  phase  of  mounting  up  from  species 
to  species  through  variation,  modifying  environment,  a  strug- 
gle for  existence,  and  natural  selection.  In  its  beginnings  and 
lirst  forms,  the  same  as  with  life  itself,  it  was  vague,  nebu- 
lous, protoplasmic,  consisting  for  ages  of  only  such  ac- 
quaintance with  the  habits  and  structure  of  animals  as  the 
hunter  and  the  herdsman  following  them  in  the  chase  and 
the  field,  and  the  priest  and  the  householder  cutting  them 
up  for  the  altar  and  the  table,  would  be  likely  to  acquire, 
and  of  such  accounts  of  them  as  wondar  and  amazement 
would  be  likely  to  suggest.  Even  after  collections  of  their 
varieties  began  to  be  made  it  was  as  objects  of  curiosity  and 
amusement  rather  than  of  study ;  and  in  regard  to  their 
very  names,  if  it  is  not  a  puzzle  as  to  how  they  were  ob- 
tained from  their  more  waspy,  bearish,  and  uncommunica- 
tive owners,  as  it  was  to  John  Phenix  how  astronomers  ever 
got  at  those  of  the  stars,  it  is  one,  certainly,  as  to  which  ani- 
mals those  used  in  its  earlier  books  were  really  meant  for,  so 
loose  is  their  description. 

Aristotle  (384-322  B.  c.),  that  mountain  mind  which 
caught  on  its  brow  so  many  of  the  beams  of  wisdom's  rising 
sun  a  thousand  years  before  they  touched  the  vales  below, 
was  the  first  observer  to  look  on  animals  with  the  really 
scientific  eye,  describing  minutely  their  wonderful  varieties, 
and,  by  his  divisions  of  them  into  oviparous,  viviparous,  and 
the  like,  recognizing  the  need,  if  not  the  method,  of  their 
classification.  It  was  a  work  in  which  Alexander  the  Great 
was  his  friend  and  patron,  putting  at  his  service,  it  is  said, 
millions  of  money  and  thousands  of  men,  specimens  also  of 
all  the  new  animals  and  plants  found  by  him  in  the  coun- 
tries he  ravaged  ;  and  it  is  an  interesting  fact  that  while  the 
empires  over  men  that  the  great  Macedonian  established 
have  long  since  passed  away,  and  the  glory  that  he  won  as  a 
warrior  become  only  a  blot  on  the  page  of  history,  the  little 
he  did  among  the  brutes  was  the  founding  of  a  kingdom 


206  Zoology  as  Related  to  Evolution. 

that  has  gone  on  to  gather  all  lands  into  its  sweep  and  is 
the  sole  thing  remembered  now  to  his  credit. 

But  Aristotle,  like  advanced  thinkers  in  all  departments 
of  life,  even  in  religion  itself,  if  a  great  help  to  progress, 
was  also  a  great  hindrance  ;  if  a  mountain  to  catch  long  be- 
forehand the  beams  of  the  rising  sun,  a  mountain  likewise 
to  throw  long  afterward  a  deep  darkness  over  the  plain. 
For  two  thousand  years  men  lingered  in  the  shadow  of  his 
great  name,  studied  what  he  had  said  about  animals  rather 
than  animals  themselves,  and  trembled  lest  in  going  beyond 
Aristotle  they  should  go  beyond  truth.  It  was  not  till  the 
seventeenth  and  eighteenth  centuries,  and  with  them  the 
advent  of  Ray  and  "Willoughby  in  England,  Buffon  in 
France,  and  pre-eminently  Linnseus  in  Sweden,  that  the 
science  resumed  its  growth,  one  of  the  many  instances  in 
known  history  of  a  leaping  from  mind  to  mind  over  whole 
centuries  with  hardly  a  connecting  link  between,  which 
ought  to  remove  all  difficulty  about  missing  links  in  the 
ages  before  history  when  in  accordance  with  the  same  law 
the  leap  was  from  species  to  species  and  from  form  to 
form. 

The  great  service  of  Linnaeus  (1707-1768)  to  zoology,  the 
same  as  to  botany,  was  his  well-known  twofold  one  of  classi- 
fication and  of  nomenclature.  He  was  a  new  Adam  in  the 
Eden  of  science  before  whom  each  of  its  creatures  passed 
again  to  be  named,  a  scientific  Napoleon  in  the  kingdom  of 
nature,  who  took  its  myriad  inhabitants  as  a  mob  and  or- 
ganized them  into  the  divisions,  brigades,  regiments,  and 
companies  of  a  vast  army,  each  with  its  own  distinctive  uni- 
form. And  though  his  organization,  while  serving  well  on 
some  fields,  has  proved  inadequate  for  science's  advancing 
needs,  his  system  of  double  names — one  for  genus  and  the 
other  for  species — has  been  of  immense  permanent  value,  and 
illustrates  strikingly  the  new  power  that  words  with  fixed 
meanings  have  to  make  charges  with,  bayonet-like,  in  the 
battles  of  thought. 

The  work  of  Linnaeus  was  taken  up  and  carried  on  yet 
further  by  Cuvier  (1769-1832),  the  third  great  name  in 
zoology.  A  new  and  vastly  improved  system  of  classifica- 
tion, based  on  the  structure  of  its  objects  as  a  whole,  rather 
than  on  a  single  feature  of  them,  was  added  by  him  to  its 
growth.  The  idea  of  its  kingdom  as  a  regular  series,  scala 
natura,  ascending  from  zoophyte  to  man,  which  had  hither- 
to prevailed,  he  supplanted  with  the  conception  of  it  as  a 


Zoology  as  Related  to  Evolution.  207 

tree-like  structure,  having  four  distinct  'branches — Mollusk, 
Radiate,  Articulate,  and  Vertebrate — an  immense  gain.  He 
was  the  first  zoologist  to  enter  the  great  nature-built  mu- 
seum of  the  rocks  and  recognize  the  exceeding  value  of  its 
fossil  treasures  as  the  antecedents  of  living  forms ;  and  his 
skill  as  a  comparative  anatomist  is  indicated  by  the  fact  that 
while  his  predecessors  had  mistaken  the  bones  of  creatures 
as  wide  apart  as  the  elephant  and  the  salamander  for  those 
of  men,  he  out  of  a  single  tooth  could  reconstruct  the  whole 
body  of  an  animal  otherwise  unknown. 

It  was  under  him  that  zoology  reached  the  maturity  of 
its  second  great  form,  that  of  organised  knowledge,  Xatural 
History ;  and  who  can  compare  it  with  what  it  was  to  begin 
with,  a  mere  unassorted  collection  of  strange  stories  about 
animals,  and  not  see  that  it  was  as  much  a  transmutation  of 
species  as  any  that  the  primitive  amoeba  ever  underwent  in 
mounting  up  from  its  original  protoplasm  to  be  an  organized 
mammal? 

Side  by  side  with  this  process  of  classification,  however, 
another  one  still  more  striking  had  already  begun — that  of 
asking  what  was  the  origin  and  cause  of  classes,  and  of  try- 
ing to  get  at  the  laws  and  forces  by  which  they  had  natu- 
rally come.  As  far  back  as  the  time  of  Linnaeus — not  to  go 
back  to  that  of  Hippocrates  and  Lucretius — Buff  on  (1707- 
1788)  had  given  the  question  birth.  He  is  usually  ridiculed 
as  a  dreamer  rather  than  a  scientist,  a  man  who  in  studying 
ftnimala  vivisected  them  unopened  with  his  imagination  as  a 
scalpel,  and  arranged  them  unpunctured  with  his  philosophy 
as  a  pin ;  and  indeed  as  a  dealer  with  facts  he  is  not  for  a 
moment  to  be  compared  with  Linnaeus  and  Cuvier.  But  he 
got  hold  in  his  dreaming  of  some  things  in  nature  that  they 
with  their  eyes  wide  open  for  facts  were  utterly  blind  to ;  he 
was  a  babe  in  zoology  as  compared  with  them,  but,  like  the 
primitive  anthropoid,  the  babe  of  a  new  species.  He 
reached  forward  in  fancy  to  almost  the  exact  thing  that 
Darwin  later  found  in  fact,  expressing  it,  however,  as  he  had 
to,  in  the  subjunctive  mood  of  church  fear  rather  than  with 
the  indicative  of  scientific  manhood.  "If,"  he  says,  "we 
did  not  know  the  contrary  to  be  the  case  by  sure  warrant, 
we  might  easily  have  concluded,  so  fallible  is  our  reason, 
that  animals  always  varied  slightly,  and  that  such  variations, 
indefinitely  accumulated,  suffice  to  account  for  almost  any 
amount  of  ultimate  difference" — words  that  for  delicate  in- 
genuity in  hinting  a  truth  so  as  not  to  hurt  a  prejudice, 


208  Zoology  as  Related  to  Evolution. 

serving  God  and  yet  not  offending  Mammon,  even  a  minister 
in  the  pulpit  could  hardly  rival. 

The  new  species  of  zoology  thus  feebly  begun  developed 
in  the  time  of  Cuvier  into  a  great  school  of  brilliant  think- 
ers who  in  their  aims  and  methods  were  widely  differenti- 
ated from  the  old  stock.  On  the  side  of  the  past  were  the 
patient  observers  and  careful  experimentalists  who  held  to 
the  traditional  doctrine  of  species  as  the  immediate  work  of 
the  Creator,  and  believed  in  letting  new  theories  about 
causes  alone  and  in  confining  themselves  to  the  collection 
and  arrangement  of  facts.  On  the  other  side  were  the  bold 
speculators  and  nature-philosophers  who  believed  in  study- 
ing the  causes  which  underlie  the  facts,  and  in  all  species 
as  originating  through  natural  laws  out  of  a  primitive 
stock,  a  side  which  embraced  such  advocates  as  Erasmus 
Darwin  (1731-1802),  who  believed  in  a  slow  inward  vari- 
ability as  leading  to  their  differences ;  Lamarck  (1744-1829), 
who  ascribed  them  to  the  efforts  accumulating  through  in- 
heritance of  the  animals  themselves;  St.-Hilaire  (1772- 
1844),  who  emphasized  the  action  of  the  environment ; 
Oken  (1779-1851),  who  taught  the  doctrine  of  protoplasm 
and  the  cell ;  and  Goethe  (1749-1832),  who  explained  the 
skull  with  all  its  wonders  as  only  an  enlargement  of  the 
upper  spinal  vertebra.  The  antagonism  between  the  two 
schools  widened  gradually  from  word  and  work  into  feeling 
and  friction ;  and  at  last,  in  1830,  it  broke  out  on  the  floor 
of  the  French  Academy  in  an  open  dispute,  headed  by 
Cuvier  on  the  one  side  and  St.-Hilaire  on  the  other,  which 
for  violence  and  ferocity  the  beasts  themselves  could  hardly 
have  excelled,  the  famous  dispute  which  Goethe  at  his  home 
in  Weimar  looked  upon  as  of  so  much  more  importance 
than  the  French  Eevolution  breaking  out  at  the  same 
time,  that  he  could  hardlv  imagine  how  his  friend,  when  he 
spoke  to  him  of  "  this  great  event,"  could  think  he  referred 
to  the  mere  political  outbreak. 

Cuvier  won  the  victory  for  the  time  in  hand,  nothing 
being  able  to  withstand  the  torrent  of  facts  that  his  brain, 
made  on  the  mitrailleuse  principle,  was  able  to  pour  forth  ; 
and  for  thirty  years  he  was  the  hero,  the  world  over,  of 
conservatism  and  the  church.  All  the  same,  however,  the 
new  phase  of  the  science  kept  on  with  its  growth.  Von 
Baer  (1792-1876)  opened  and  read  the  testimony  of  em- 
bryology ;  John  Miller  dissected  and  described,  with  an 
accuracy  unknown  before,  the  animal  body;  Eichard  Owen 


Zoology  as  Related  to  Evolution.  209 

(1804-18 — )  pointed  out  the.  distinction  of  analogous  and 
homologous  members  in  comparative  anatomy;  Schwam 
(1810-1882)  discovered  with  his  microscope  the  starting- 
point  in  the  cell  of  all  animal  life  ;  and  Herbert  Spencer 
formulated  the  great  principles  of  biology  in  his  new  syn- 
thetic philosophy.  Then  evolution,  having  done  its  work 
with  observation  and  speculation  separated,  took  its  next 
great  step  in  order — that  of  integrating  them  in  a  man 
who,  with  a  minuteness  and  accuracy  of  observation  which 
place  him  at  the  head  of  all  fact-gatherers,  united  a  skill 
of  interpretation  and  a  boldness  of  generalization  which 
place  him  at  the  forefront  of  all  truth-finders — Charles 
Darwin,  the  fourth  great  name  in  zoology ;  and  the  result 
was  The  Origin  of  Species  and  the  transmuting  of  what 
with  others  had  been  a  brilliant  guess  into  a  statement  of 
the  very  laws  and  principles  by  which  as  a  fact  it  had  been 
brought  about.  It  was  itself  another  phase  of  its  own  doc 
trine — raised  zoology  to  be  a  new  species  of  science  as  dis- 
tinct from  those  which  had  gone  before  it  as  ever  man  was 
from  monkey.  In  its  first  form  it  was  natural  knowledge, 
in  its  second  natural  history,  in  its  third  natural  science ; 
in  its  first  fact,  in  its  second  order,  in  its  third  truth; 
in  its  first  an  unorganized  amoeba,  in  its  second  a  verte- 
brated  animal,  and  in  its  third  an  intelligent  man.  It  ex- 
ists in  all  three  of  those  forms  to-day,  just  as  other  derived 
species  do;  has  its  museum  and  picture-book  species,  its 
cabinet  and  school-book  species,  and  its  ethical-society  and 
philosophical-lecture  species;  and  people  are  interested 
sometimes  in  one,  sometimes  in  another,  and  now  and  then 
in  all  three. 

"With  the  proclamation  of  its  new  truth  there  came  in 
natural  order  its  struggle  for  existence,  the  world's  modern 
thirty  years'  war.  Against  it  have  been  brought  to  bear 
all  the  thunderbolts  of  theology,  all  the  flippancies  and 
squibs  of  the  newspaper,  all  the  stupidities  and  timidities 
of  society  at  large,  and  all  the  arguments  the  conservative 
side  of  science  could  find  in  its  arsenal.  Agassiz's  great 
work  on  Classification,  the  crowning  effort  of  zoology's  old 
dispensation,  was  published  by  a  striking  coincidence  the 
same  year  that  gave  to  the  animal  world  its  new  Evangel ; 
and  even  he  had  to  say  "  Darwinism  is  a  burlesque  of  facts," 
and  "  science  would  renounce  the  claim  which  it  has  hither- 
to possessed  to  the  confidence  of  earnest  minds  if  such 
sketches  were  to  be  accepted  as  indications  of  true  prog- 


210  Zoology  as  Related  to  Evolution. 

ress  "  —  words  that  evince  how  distinctly  a  man  may  see 
facts  and  yet  how  utterly  blind  he  may  be  to  truths,  how 
accurately  know  the  trees  of  the  forest  and  yet  how  igno- 
rant be  of  the  forest  itself. 

On  the  other  side  have  stood  from  the  start  such  names 
as  those  of  Wallace,  Spencer,  Tyndall,  Huxley,  Haeckel, 
themselves  masters  in  the  realms  of  thought.  Little  by 
little  Cuvier's  great  victory  on  the  floor  of  the  French 
Academy,  gloried  in  for  thirty  years  as  the  triumph  of  fact 
over  theory,  observation  over  speculation,  has  been  turned 
to  defeat.  The  facts  themselves,  whole  regiments  of  them, 
enlisted  so  carefully  under  the  banners  of  observation,  some 
the  very  ones  that  Agassiz  himself  gathered,  have  mutinied 
against  their  own  leaders  and  have  put  in  their  sturdiest 
blows  in  behalf  of  theory.  Darwin's  doctrine,  whether  or 
not  it  is  regarded  as  the  whole  truth  about  descent,  is  held, 
almost  without  exception,  to  be  a  large  piece  of  it,  the 
grandest  generalization  yet  reached  in  zoological  progress. 
And  Darwin  himself  stands  forth  to-day  a  testimony  for- 
ever to  the  value  of  the  speculative  reason,  as  well  as  of  the 
plodding,  practical,  fact-gathering  senses,  as  an  agency  in 
winning  victories  even  on  the  fields  of  material  science. 

But  while  recognizing  thus  the  inward  growing  force  of 
zoology's  great  names  and  the  struggle  for  existence  it  went 
through,  there  is  another  element  of  evolution  working  with 
them  in  producing  its  changes,  which  is  not  to  be  forgotten 
— that  of  its  environment  and  of  the  world's  general  unfold- 
ing knowledge.  Meat-eating,  and  with  it  the  need  of  cutting 
creatures  up,  making  in  every  butcher's  shop  a  dissecting- 
room;  medicine,  and  with  it  the  study  of  man's  struct- 
ure ;  vaticination,  and  with  it  the  inspection  of  animal  bod- 
ies, each  of  these,  must  have  contributed  largely  at  the  start 
to  its  knowledge  of  facts.  The  discovery  and  exploration 
of  America  in  the  fifteenth,  sixteenth,  and  seventeenth 
centuries,  bringing  to  its  hands  a  multitude  of  new  animals, 
brought  about  almost  as  a  necessity  the  classificatory  stage 
into  which  it  then  developed.  And  geology,  revealing  a 
score  of  other  new  worlds  with  their  missing  links  under 
the  old  one's  feet ;  the  microscope,  revealing  still  another 
score  in  the  old  one's  every  drop  of  water ;  astronomy,  ex- 
plaining with  its  nebular  hypothesis  the  origin  of  a  myriad 
worlds  from  one  primal  mist ;  chemistry,  explaining  with  its 
atomic  theory  the  origin  of  a  myriad  substances  from  pos- 
sibly one  primal  element ;  Lyell,  explaining  with  his  uniform- 


Zoology  as  Related  to  Evolution.  211 

atory  doctrine  the  production  of  all  the  varieties  of  rock 
from  one  central  mass ;  Harvey,  explaining  with  his  circu- 
lation of  the  blood  the  moving  of  a  thousand  little  drops 
from  one  common  fountain  of  life ;  and  Herbert  Spencer, 
explaining  with  his  grand  synthetic  philosophy  the  evolu- 
tion of  the  universe  as  a  whole  from  one  starting-point  of 
matter  and  force,-  all  sweeping  along  in  the  same  path  of  a 
single  natural  cause  for  a  series  of  widely  different  results — 
all  surrounded  zoolgoy  with  an  atmosphere  which  inevitably 
helped  to  sweep  its  thinkers  on  to  Darwin's  like  new  truth. 

Even  the  changing  climate  of  the  religious  world  was  not 
without  its  modifying  effect.  The  zoological  mind,  the 
same  as  the  thinking  mind  everywhere,  felt  the  inspiring 
warmth  of  the  new  summer,  the  delicious  trouble  in  the 
moral  ground,  that  with  the  Reformation  began  coming  to 
the  world  of  men.  Ideas  that  Buffon  eould  only  hint  in 
the  cellar,  Darwin  could  proclaim  unhindered  on  the  house- 
top The  skepticism  of  religion  became  the  faith  of  science. 
And  just  in  proportion  as  the  Church  got  rid  of  its  doctrine 
that  man  had  gone  down  from  his  primitive  perfection  to 
being  "a  worm  of  the  dust,"  it  became  possible  for  the 
lecture-room  to  show  that  his  being  a  worm  was  the  very 
condition  from  which  he  had  come  up. 

Nor  were  humbler  agencies  lacking  as  contributors  to  the 
grand  result.  Darwin  notoriously  was  started  on  the  track 
of  his  doctrine  of  how  species  originate  by  what  he  found 
in  the  farmyard  and  the  garden.  The  experience  of  breeders 
down  through  long  ages  had  accumulated  a  vast  fund  of 
practical  knowledge  on  the  subject,  overlooked  by  other 
scientists,  that  he  was  not  ashamed  to  sit  at  their  feet  and 
learn.  Hodge  was  found  not  to  have  raised  his  pigs  through 
so  many  generations  only  for  pork.  The  story  of  the  crafty 
Jacob  in  the  sheepfolds  of  old  Laban  was  discovered  to 
have  a  truth  in  it  beyond  anything  the  most  inveterate  be- 
liever in  biblical  infallibility  had  ever  dreamed  of.  Doves, 
drawing  of  old  the  chariot  of  Venus,  drew  for  him  the 
fairer  one  of  Wisdom.  Mares  bred  to  win  prizes  at  the  Derby 
were  taught  under  his  touch  to  win  them  on  the  race-course 
of  science.  And  while  other  men  had  sought  truth  by  con- 
verse with  the  gods,  and  thought  of  it  as  too  holy  a  thing 
to  be  enshrined  in  aught  but  learned  tongues,  its  nineteenth- 
century  disciple  found  it,  like  the  Magi  of  old,  cradled  in  a 
stable  and  uttering  itself  in  that  most  despised  of  all  things, 
"  horse  talk,"  illustrating  anew  Emerson's  words : 


212  Zoology  as  Related  to  Evolution. 

"  'Tis  not  in  the  high  stars  alone, 

Nor  in  the  cups  of  budding  flowers, 

Nor  in  the  redbreast's  mellow  tone, 

Nor  in  the  bow  that  smiles  thro'  showers, 

But  in  the  mud  and  scum  of  things 
That  alway,  alway  something  sings ! " 

II.  Passing  now  from  what  zoology  has-been  historically 
as  an  embodiment  of  evolution  to  what  it  is  scientifically  as 
a  field  for  it,  how  widely  already  has  it  opened  its  gate  for 
its  entrance !  It  is  not  indeed  the  whole  of  its  sphere.  The 
starry  heavens,  the  rock-ribbed  earth,  the  chemical  elements, 
the  vast  realm  of  botany,  and  who  shall  say  how  largely  the 
kingdom  of  mind,  are  other  rooms  in  its  great  house.  But 
it  is  one  of  its  most  important  departments — one  that,  with 
the  great  mystery  of  life  already  its  occupant,  it  seemed  be- 
forehand almost  impossible  for  it  to  enter.  All  its  great 
fundamental  principles — homogeneousness  at  the  start,  dif- 
ferentiation, rhythmic  movement,  the  multiplication  of 
effects,  integration,  and  then  dissolution  and  the  use  of  its 
materials  over  again  in  a  new  series — all  these,  with  some 
others,  as  natural  selection,  peculiar  to  its  own  realm,  it 
illustrates  with  marvelous  beauty  alike  in  the  individual 
and  the  race,  evinces  it  as  holding  good  in  the  realms  of' 
flesh  and  life  as  well  as  in  those  of  matter  and  force,  shows 
that  what  made  the  star  made  the  soul,  that  what  or- 
ganized the  earth  organized  its  inhabitants,  and  that  the 
highway  of  creation  trod  out  of  primal  fire-mist  over  whirl- 
ing atom,  tenuous  nebula  and  blazing  sun,  over  cooling 
planet,  heaving  continent  and  quaking  rock,  was  not  ended 
or  interrupted  when  it  came  to  man  and  mind.  It  is  not 
strange  that  to  the  world  at  large  Darwinism  means  the 
same  thing  as  evolution.  Without  the  Origin  of  Species  to 
lead  the  way  it  is  doubtful  whether  The  First  Principles  of 
a  New  Philosophy  would  have  ever  got  beyond  the  scholar's 
study.  It  was  its  victory  on  the  field  of  zoology  that 
forced  it  into  the  ears  and  faith  of  the  general  public. 
With  the  citadel  of  life  carried  by  its  logic  and  the  myriad 
armies  of  the  animal  world  made  its  captives,  it  was  felt 
that  the  whole  vast  fort  of  the  universe  might  as  well  be 
surrendered  to  it  at  once  as  wait  for  an  assault  it  now  be- 
came certain  nothing  could  resist.  And  so,  if  Spencer  is  to 
be  regarded  as  the  Messiah  of  evolution,  Darwin  must  be 
set  down  as  at  least  its  Apostle  Paul. 

What  a  field,  too,  it  affords  for  its  further  progress !    Dar- 


Zoology  as  Related  to  Evolution.  213 

win's  discovery,  with  all  it  did  for  it,  was  but  a  stage  along 
its  way,  not  by  any  means  its  goal.  It  gives  us  the  doctrine  of 
animal  descent,  starts  the  student  on  the  right  track  for  all 
coming  investigation ;  but  the  actual  lines  of  their  descent, 
the  ages  and  order  in  which  their  different  classes,  families, 
genera,  and  species  have  branched  off  from  the  common 
stock  and  from  each  other ;  in  short,  the  construction  of  that 
vast  genealogical  tree,  world-wide  and  ages  high,  on  which 
each  member  of  the  animal  family  shall  have  its  place 
marked — that,  except  it  be  in  Haeckel's  imperfect  outlines 
and  with  a  few  ancestors  of  the  horse,  is  as  yet  hardly 
touched.  Departments  for  its  study  that  were  thought  of 
old  to  be  outside  of  zoology  are  brought  by  The  Origin  of 
Species  directly  within  its  sphere.  Ontogeny,  the  science 
of  the  individual,  is  made  by  its  principles  as  much  a  part 
of  it  as  is  phylogeny,  the  science  of  the  race.  Embryology, 
once  regarded  as  hardly  a  fly-leaf  in  its  mighty  volume,  is 
found  under  it  to  be  a  most  precious  table  of  contents,  re- 
peating with  the  child  in  a  few  months  what  it  took  ages  to  ac- 
complish with  its  parents,  and  giving  in  its  summary  whole 
chapters  again,  ages  long,  which  in  the  book  itself  earthquakes 
have  blotted  out  and  oceans  covered  up,  opening,  therefore, 
what  a  new  world  for  evolutionary  eyes !  Morphology,  the 
science  of  structure,  the  study  of  the  origin  of  the  organs  in- 
side of  the  body — as  much  species  as  the  animals  which  are 
outside  of  it — what  made  them  vary  from  their  original  homo- 
geneous protoplasm  into  all  the  complexities  of  their  present 
condition,  three  hundred  thousand  fibers,  for  instance,  in  a 
single  optic  nerve,  and  why  it  is  that  each  animal  and  each 
species  has  the  exact  size  and  shape  and  number  of  limbs 
and  of  senses  that  it  does — all  as  much  a  matter  of  law  as 
the  shape  of  crystals  or  the  orbit  of  planets — all  this  is 
legitimately  within  its  zoological  sphere.  Then,  with  man  as 
an  animal,  sociology,  the  study  of  the  laws  and  forces  which 
evolve  society,  is  surely  as  much  a  part  of  it  as  is  the  study 
of  those  which  gather  the  bee  in  hives  and  the  ant  in  hills ; 
and  especially  comparative  sociology,  an  investigation  of  the 
common  elements  which  run  through  all  collections  of  ani- 
mals from  those  of  the  insect  up,  how  much  has  it  got  here 
to  learn — what  a  help,  also,  find  from  it  in  solving  some  of 
the  social  problems  that  we  are  vainly  now  seeking  wisdom 
for  among  ourselves,  giving  a  new  point  to  old  Solomon's 
words,  "  Go  to  the  ant,  thou  sluggard,  consider  her  ways  and 
be  wise."  And,  crowning  all,  psychology,  the  marvels  of  mind 


214  Zoology  as  Related  to  Evolution. 

and  soul,  the  wonder  that  fills  and  overflows  this  wonder  of 
body — consciousness,  love,  thought,  aspiration — how  they 
unfolded  out  of  protoplasm  with  the  body,  what  they  root 
in  and  what  they  lead  to,  all  these  have  got  to  be  studied 
henceforth  in  connection  with  animals — are  for  some  future 
Darwin  to  make  discoveries  in  as  much  beyond  The  Origin 
of  Species  as  The  Origin  of  Species  is  beyond  the  animal 
pictures  that  the  old  Troglodytes  drew  on  their  half-eaten 
bones  in  the  caves  of  Dordogne  and  La  Madelaine. 

III.  Proceeding  from  the  historic  and  scientific  aspects 
of  the  subject,  we  find  it  unfolding  into  still  another  spe- 
cies of  truth,  one  which  in  some  respects  is  the  most  inter- 
esting and  important  of  all.  Evolution  is  not  only  a  history 
and  a  science.  It  is  also  a  philosophy.  It  embraces  not 
only  facts  and  causes,  but  with  them  reasons — asks  not 
only  what  and  how,  but,  likewise,  why.  And  after  giving 
us  in  its  department  of  zoology  the  natural  history  of  ani- 
mals and  the  methods  and  causes  of  their  origin  as  species 
and  individuals  one  from  another,  it  is  met  at  once  with 
the  further  question  of  why  their  existence  and  descent  in 
this  way,  what  the  object  of  the  myriads  of  them  that  lived 
and  struggled  and  died  before  men  came  on  earth,  as  well 
as  of  the  myriads  that  are  doing  it  now — a  page  of  Nature 
written  how  deep  in  blood — what  the  philosophy  of  their 
different  forms,  many  of  them  so  repulsive  and  monstrous, 
and  of  man's  being  born  out  of  their  loins,  as  Darwin  repre- 
sents, instead  of  his  coming  up  directly  out  of  the  dust  and 
with  a  human  shape  to  start  with,  as  theology  so  long  has 
taught. 

There  is  doubtless  a  sense  in  which  animals  are  their  own 
end,  a  side  of  philosophy  which  must  recognize  that,  like 
beauty  and  the  multiplication  table  and  man  himself,  the 
ugliest  beast  and  the  humblest  worm  are  their  "  own  excuse 
for  being." 

"  Know  Nature's  children  all  divide  her  care ; 
The  fur  that  warms  a  monarch  warmed  a  bear. 
While  man  exclaims,  '  See  all  things  for  my  use.' 
'  See  man  for  mine,'  replies  the  pampered  joose." 

And  yet  it  is  not  the  less  true  that  a  secondary  purpose,  a 
vein,  if  not  of  the  old,  Paley,  watch-maker  teleology,  yet  of 
practical  good  sense  and  of  a  reason  for  things,  does  run 
everywhere  through  Nature.  And  it  is  this  that  evolution 


Zoology  as  Related  to  Evolution.  215 

finds  shining  out  as  a  vein  of  gold  from  the  dark  strata  of 
paleontology  and  from  the  forms  even  of  the  most  monster- 
like  brutes. 

Not  to  dwell  on  their  work  in  making  the  earth's  conti- 
nents and  soils,  and  in  elaborating  its  crude  inorganic  ele- 
ments into  nourishing  foods,  the  why  of  their  existence,  of 
their  forms  in  the  past,  and  of  the  whole  process  of  their 
growth  from  moner  up  to  man,  is  to  be  found  in  Darwin's 
doctrines  of  variation  and  heredity — in  their  acquisition  of 
organs  and  qualities  by  variation  step  by  step  in  the  only  envi- 
ronment that  was  fitted  for  their  production,  and  then  in  the 
transmission  of  them  by  inheritance  from  species  to  species 
up  into  higher  surroundings  and  finer  shapes,  and  at  last  into 
their  existing  completeness.  Animals  have  been  not  merely 
the  lineal  ancestors,  but  beyond  this  the  necessary  makers  of 
humanity,  the  only  possible  builders  not  only  of  man's  dwell- 
ing place  and  man's  food,  but  of  man  himself.  Nature's 
method  of  phylogenic  growth,  made  inevitable  apparently 
by  her  own  inherent  laws,  has  been  herself  to  push  forward 
an  organ  a  little  way  and  then  to  set  its  recipients  to  using 
it  with  their  own  will-power  over  and  over,  till  at  last,  like 
the  beating  of  our  hearts,  it  unconsciously  did  itself,  and 
then  to  employ  her  vitality,  released  from  this  work,  in  push- 
ing out  still  another  organ  on  which  the  process  was  repeat- 
ed ;  and  so  on,  the  gain  of  one  generation  being  transferred 
by  inheritance  to  the  next,  a  thing  impossible,  you  see, 
under  the  old  idea  of  species  as  independent  creations.  The 
uniting  of  its  four  great  elements,  in  some  respects  the  most 
refractory  of  Nature,  into  the  original  protoplasmic  mortar 
out  of  which  all  animals  are  built  up,  had  probably  to  be 
done  millions  of  times  by  its  low  amoebic  forms  before  they 
got  the  habit  of  staying  united  ;  and  every  step  of  the  won- 
derful organization  and  functioning  to  which  it  has  now 
arrived  in  humanity  has  been  taken  by  having  myriads 
of  animals  along  the  way  go  through  with  its  various  opera- 
tions of  digestion,  respiration,  nerve-action,  sense-percep- 
tion, blood-circulation  and  the  like,  again  and  again  till' 
what  at  first  was  direct  effort — done  by  giving  their  minds 
to  it — became  at  last  involuntary  action,  done  without  a 
thought.  Man  is  indeed  a  bundle  of  habits,  and  a  bundle 
formed  not  only  by  himself,  but  by  all  the  multitudes  of 
creatures  that  are  in  the  lines  of  his  descent  back  to  the 
first  amoeba  that  ever  ate  its  bit  of  brother  slime.  A  few 
years  ago,  as  a  German  naturalist  was  watching  the  hatching 


216  Zoology  as  Related  to  Evolution. 

of  an  egg,  he  noticed  that  after  the  shell  had  broken  apart, 
and  while  the  chick  was  yet  in  one  side  of  it,  a  fly  lighted 
on  the  other.  Instantly  the  little  creature,  not  wholly 
hatched  as  yet,  darted  its  bill  out  for  the  fly  and  caught  it 
and  ate  it  up ;  and  in  doing  so,  the  naturalist  reckoned  that 
it  must  have  made,  bodily  and  mentally,  at  least  three  thou- 
sand co-ordinated  motions,  each  one  of  them  absolutely  per- 
fect. Where  did  it  get  its  skill  ?  "  Instinct,"  said  old  igno- 
rance. "  Inherited  habit,"  says  new  evolution.  Millions  of 
mature  chickens  in  the  generations  before  it  had  spent  their 
lives  in  catching  flies,  and  the  skill  they  had  acquired  came 
down  to  their  descendant  in  its  blood.  So  with  man  in  his 
facility  for  catching  flies,  whether  they  be  in  the  shape  of 
milk  on  his  mother's  breast,  or  of  base-ball  on  the  play- 
ground, or,  further  along,  of  crinkled  lightning  on  the 
breast  of  earth,  it  comes  how  largely  from  the  skill  of  mus- 
cle trained  into  him  by  the  brutes.  We  live  not  only  out- 
wardly on  strata  of  rock  filled  with  their  bones,  but  in- 
wardly on  strata  of  flesh  filled  with  their  deeds.  The  whole 
marvelous  story  of  paleontology  is  recapitulated  in  every  babe 
that  creeps,  the  four-footed  ways  of  its  fossils  in  the  very 
creeping  itself.  Honestly  indeed,  as  the  saying  is,  do  boys 
come  by  the  monkey  tricks  and  the  habits  of  sliding  down 
banisters  and  climbing  up  trees,  reckless  of  clothes,  they  are 
so  notorious  for,  acquired  in  far-off  tropic  forests  when  liter- 
ally it  was  "  Rock-a-by,  baby,  in  the  tree-top,"  and  when  the 
only  nursery  tales  they  had  to  amuse  themselves  with  were 
what  they  carried  appended  to  their  own  bodies,  and  the 
only  pantaloons  to  tear,  those  which  their  mother  Nature 
had  made.  Primeval  heats,  which  blotted  all  traces  of  the 
Eozoon  out  of  Laurentian  limestone,  left  the  marks  of  it 
cindered  on  the  inner,  more  imperishable  bed-rock  of  the 
geologist  himself  who  goes  out  in  its  search.  And  live  men 
are  not  only  "  dead  men  warmed  over,"  as  Holmes  has  ex- 
pressed it,  but  with  them  dead  animals  warmed  over,  whose 
subtler  selves,  never  dying,  still  wriggle  and  crawl  and  climb 
in  our  every  bone  and  nerve. 

The  value  of  the  unconscious  automatic  functioning  thus 
established  in  the  human  body  it  is  hardly  possible  to  over- 
estimate. Suppose  that  man  had  to  superintend  and  exe- 
cute each  act  of  his  physical  living  by  the  direct  conscious 
exercise  of  his  own  will ;  suppose  the  sailor,  reefing  the  top- 
gallant sails  of  his  ship  in  a  tornado,  with  the  masts  swing- 
ing through  the  air  like  whips  and  the  lightnings  jabbing 


Zoology  as  Related  to  Evolution.  217 

through  it  like  bayonets,  had  at  the  same  time  to  keep  the 
pumps  going  of  his  own  heart ;  or  that  the  orator,  while 
filling  his  audience  with  inspiring  thoughts,  had  with  every 
respiration  to  give  part  of  his  mind  to  the  filling  of  his  own 
lungs  with  breath ;  or  that  the  poet,  right  in  the  midst  of  his 
subtle  fancies  and  revelings  in  the  ideal  world,  had  ever  and 
anon  to  turn  his  eye  in  a  fine  frenzy  rolling  down  on  to  his 
liver  to  keep  it  from  idling,  or  in  along  his  digestive  appara- 
tus to  make  sure  its  thousand  little  nutrients  were  not  send- 
ing his  nourishment  off  to  the  wrong  places — what  power  or 
time  would  they  have  left  for  success  in  their  immediate  hu- 
man work?  More  to  us  than  any  outward  legacies  from 
human  parents  are  these  inherited  habits  within  that  we  are 
all  born  to  from  our  animal  progenitors.  It  is  because  they 
used  their  volitions  and  vitality  so  well  in  the  establishment 
of  such  physical  ones  that  we  are  able  to  go  on  and  use  ours 
for  the  establishment  of  those  that  are  intellectual  and  moral. 
Out  of  their  awful  conflicts  in  the  long  past,  seemingly  the 
expressions  only  of  ferocity  and  cruelty,  have  come  to  us  for 
use  in  the  mighty  moral  conflicts  of  civilization 

"  The  wrestling  thews  that  throw  the  world." 

"  Thirty  centuries  look  down  upon  you,"  said  Napoleon  to 
his  soldiers  as  they  went  forth  to  the  battle  of  the  Pyramids. 
Thirty  eons  look  down  upon — nay,  join  you  and  fight  with 
you — evolution  says  to  every  man  who  goes  forth  to  the 
battle  of  life.  And  with  such  an  inheritance  from  the  brutes 
is  it  a  thing  very  discreditable  to  us  that  we  have  had  them 
as  our  ancestors — a  philosophy  wholly  without  significance 
which  shows  thus  the  reason  for  Nature's  method  of  human 
descent?* 

*  The  line  of  thought  here  presented  does  not  depend  for  its  truth  wholly  on 
how  the  question  is  decided  which  is  now  under  discussion  among  zoologists,  as 
to  whether  qualities  acquired  by  use  are  transmitted  by  inheritance,  or  only 
those  acquired  by  variation.  As  showing  man's  indebtedness  to  animals,  it  is  in 
a  measure  true  either  way  ;  but  of  course  as  a  philosophy  of  life  running  up  even 
into  human  activity  it  is  more  complete  and  emphatic  under  the  view  that  both 
kinds  are  transmitted,  a  view  which  has  on  its  side  the  great  names  of  Spencer 
and  Darwin.  Most  of  the  arguments  against  the  transmittableness  of  use  varia- 
tion are  based  on  the  assumption  that  the  characteristics  of  animal  nature  were  the 
same  in  the  past  as  now,  always  a  dangerous  assumption.  When  a  species  is  new, 
all  its  acquisitions,  whether  by  variation  or  use,  are  vastly  more  unstable  than 
when  it  is  old.  There  is  a  continual  tendency  in  the  generations  which  immedi- 
ately follow  a  recent  species  not  only  to  revert  back  to  the  old  stock,  but  to  vary 
away  from  it  yet  further,  as  many  a  breeder  who  has  tried  to  perpetuate  a  valu- 
able variety  either  of  animals  or  plants  has  sorrowfully  found.  It  takes  Nature's 
streams  a  long  while  to  wear  down  new  channels  into  its  bed  rock,  but  just  in 
proportion  as  they  are  worn  it  becomes  more  and  more  difficult  to  change  them 
either  by  variation  or  use,  a  fact  which  explains  not  only  why  acquired  qualities 
are  so  little  transmitted  now,  but  why  in  the  early  history  of  life  variations  were 


218  Zoology  as  Related  to  Evolution. 

It  is  a  philosophy,  moreover,  which  holds  good  not  only 
with  reference  to  those  species  of  animals  which  are  in  the 
direct  line  of  man's  origin,  but  in  some  measure  of  all  the 
side  ones,  also,  that  have  branched  off  from  it  and  ended  only 
in  themselves.  Mr.  Dawson  urges  it  as  an  argument  against 
Darwinian  evolution  that  the  trilobite,  after  existing  all 
through  the  Silurian  and  Devonian  ages,  finally  died  out 
without  giving  rise  to  any  new  forms  of  life.  It  is  a  kind  of 
reasoning  which  hardly  looks  further  than  their  own  stony 
eyes.  The  trilobites  did  their  work  and  answered  the  why  of 
their  existence  by  the  nutriment  they  afforded  the  surviving 
main  stock  of  animal  life.  It  is  a  part  of  the  magnificent 
economy  of  nature,  one  of  the  reconciling  features  in  its  hor- 
rible system  of  having  animals  eat  each  other  up,  that  its 
very  failures  are  used  thereby  to  make  its  successes — its  creat- 
ures that  perish  in  their  struggle  for  existence  are  made  to 
live  and  triumph  in  those  which  survive.  The  distinction 
between  eater  and  eaten,  as  we  go  down  the  scale  of  being, 
grows  continually  less  and  less.  Eeproduction  by  nutrition 
is  only  the  opposite  side  of  reproduction  by  fission.  When  a  big 
amoeba  eats  a  small  one,  the  result  is  a  new  creature  almost 
as  much  as  when  higher  up  the  two  parents  unite  their  lives 
in  that  of  a  child.  Indeed,  there  are  some  cases  where  the 
new  food  is  a  direct  agent  in  producing  a  new  species.  In- 
heritance in  nature  is  from  branches  as  well  as  roots,  from 
uncles  and  aunts  as  well  as  from  fathers  and  mothers.  The 
lower  limbs  of  a  forest  tree  are  not  the  less  necessary  for  its 
growth,  nor  the  less  represented  in  its  final  fruit,  because  its 
top  boughs  grow  on  it  elsewhere,  leaving  the  bottom  ones  to 
be  overshadowed  and  die.  And  whole  species  of  animals  have 
done  the  same  thing  for  man's  stock  in  the  past  that  indi- 
vidual animals  and  plants  are  doing  now — elaborated  its  food 
and  food  qualities  out  of  coarse,  inorganic  elements  up  into 
what  was  most  akin  to  its  own  flesh  and  blood. 

Of  course  the  process  has  been  a  very  slow  one — myriads 
of  animals  to  establish  a  single  habit,  ages  of  time  to  deposit 

so  many  and  rapid.  The  truth  of  the  matter  seems  to  be  that  the  two  methods 
of  change  work  together.  Nature  makes  the  variation  at  birth,  and  then  use 
comes  in  to  establish  its  functioning  as  a  habit.  If  the  stock  is  young  and  vigor- 
ous, the  variation  advantageous,  and  its  use  continued  long  enough,  then  the 
whole  thing,  both  the  original  variation  and  its  acquired  strength,  are  transmitted 
by  inheritance,  otherwise  the  reversion  is  back  in  the  offspring  to  the  channel  in 
which  the  life  stream  first  flowed.  It  is  precisely  what  is  seen  in  the  individual- 
acquisitions  of  knowledge  and  character  much  more  easily  made  in  childhood 
than  in  age,  but  retained  and  made  a  part  of  their  acquirer  only  by  their  constant 
use  ;  and  it  is  all  expressed  in  the  familiar  saying  that  "  it  is  hard  to  teach  an 
old  dog  new  tricks,"  the  dog  being  in  zoology  the  species  and  the  race. 


Zoology  as  Related  to  Evolution.  219 

a  single  organ.  But  time  with  those  animal  antediluvians 
was  of  no  especial  value,  a  million  years  but  as  a  watch  in 
the  night,  and  a  small  eternity  but  as  yesterday  when  it  was 
passed.  It  was  the  one  thing  and  the  only  thing  that  in 
those  days  they  had  to  do ;  and  it  was  what  right  in  the 
midst  of  their  frolicking  and  fighting  and  eating  each  other 
up  they  could  go  on  doing  just  as  well.  And  here  again  is 
where  Nature's  economy  comes  in  and  the  reason  comes  out 
why  the  originators  of  man  were  brutes  instead  of  higher 
beings  and  why  he  was  not  set  to  build  himself.  It  was  as 
brutes  with  brute  shapes •  and  brute  tastes  that  they  could 
best  make  what  is  animal  in  man.  It  was  protoplasm  alone 
that  was  plastic  enough  to  begin  with,  protoplasm  alone 
that  could  be  the  flask  in  which  life  could  imprison  the 
four  great  genii  of  matter.  Eough  claws  shaped  parts  of 
man  grandly  where  fine  fingers  would  have  miserably  failed. 
And  what  would  have  been  the  sense  of  having  a  creature 
with  fifty  ounces  of  brain  in  his  skull  at  work  generation 
after  generation  on  the  stomach,  lungs,  heart,  and  eye  just 
to  establish  in  them  the  habit  of  involuntary  action,  when  a 
ganoid  fish  with  a  pennyweight  of  skull-stuff,  or  a  megalo- 
saur  reptile  with  all  the  cycles  of  Cathay  at  his  command, 
could  do  it  vastly  better  ?  I  have  a  young  friend,  a  machin- 
ist, who  keeps  a  few  barn-yard  fowls  for  his  amusement,  and 
who,  like  most  amateurs  in  that  line,  became  fascinated  one 
year  with  the  idea  of  raising  young  spring  chickens  ahead  of 
Nature  by  means  of  an  incubator.  So  one  Sunday  morning, 
disregarding  the  remonstrances  of  mother,  wife,  and  sister, 
he  went  to  consult  a  friend  in  the  city  who  already  had  one 
on  his  hands.  His  friend  showed  him  his  instrument,  its 
spirit-lamps  and  steam-pipes  and  hundred  eggs  in  their 
compartments,  and  then  told  him  how  careful  he  had  to  be 
in  its  management,  sitting  up  all  night  to  watch  the  ther- 
mometer and  feed  the  lamps  and  to  keep  everything  right, 
and  then  took  him  solemnly  out  into  the  back  yard  where 
were  two  other  sets  of  a  hundred  eggs  all  spoiled,  one 
because  he  had  left  the  apparatus  fifteen  minutes  in  the 
care  of  a  small  boy  who  had  let  them  roast,  and  the  other 
because  he  himself  had  gone  to  sleep  a  moment  or  two  the 
twentieth  night  and  let  them  chill.  "  Now,  Joe/'  said  he, 
with  a  melancholy  air,  "  if  you  will  take  the  benefit  of  my 
experience,  so  long  as  your  time  as  a  machinist  is  worth 
more  than  that  of  an  old  setting  hen  as  an  incubator,  I 
should  advise  you  to  stick  to  your  lathe  and  let  the  old  set- 


220  Zoology  as  Related  to  Evolution. 

ting  hen  hatch  the  chickens."  And  that  is  what  Nature  did 
in  hatching  the  chicken  qualities  of  her  myriad  creatures  in 
the  early  spring  of  life — used  not  her  thinking  man,  but  her 
brooding  hens  to  be  their  incubator.  And  slow  and  mud- 
dle-headed as  they  were,  how  grand  is  the  resulting  body 
which  has  come  out  of  their  nest !  How  supple  and  varied 
its  powers,  how  marvelous  its  organization  !  What  a  strain 
it  has  stood  of  battle-fields  and  long  abuses  and  accidents 
by  field  and  flood,  what  a  foundation  proved  on  which  to 
build  the  enormous  structure  of  mind,  what  a  new  signifi- 
cance given  to  the  pious  hymn  of  good  old  Dr.  Watts  that 
alike  saint  and  scientist  can  for  once  unite  in  singing — 

"  Fearful  and  wondrous  is  the  skill  that  molds 

Our  body's  vital  plan, 

And  from  the  first  dim  hidden  germ  unfolds 
The  perfect  limbs  of  man ! " 

And  with  all  the  work  there  is  still  before  it  as  the  agent 
of  mind,  all  the  business  cares  and  social  problems  and 
weights  of  philosophy  and  science,  all  the  marvels  of  our 
coming  civilization,  that  are  yet  to  be  piled  up  on  its  brain, 
who  shall  say  it  is  a  particle  too  strong,  who  feel  that  those 
old  brutes  with  their  myriad  years  took  for  its  building 
one  hour  too  much,  who  not  fear,  with  it  breaking  down  so 
often  even  now,  that  the  future  may  show  that  those  Ter- 
tiary anthropoids  who  put  on  it  its  final  touches  before  the 
superstructure  of  reason  was  begun,  hurried  up  their  part  of 
the  work  a  little  too  fast  ? 

Nor  is  it  body  alone  that  man  owes  to  the  brutes.  In 
them,  too,  were  laid  all  the  great  foundation  stones  of  mind, 
heart,  and  soul !  And  how  far  back  in  their  blood  do  some 
of  the  qualities  reach  which  seem  now  to  be  most  distinct- 
ively the  badges  of  human  superiority !  Little  did  that  old 
amphibian  think,  when  he  saw  under  far  Devonian  skies  the 
fish-fins  with  which  he  had  come  out  of  the  water  separate 
into  the  ten  phalanges  of  his  fore  limbs,  that  he  was  laying 
the  foundations  of  an  arithmetic  that  was  to  count  at  last 
the  stars  of  heaven  with  its  digits  and  measure  the  distances 
of  Sirius  and  the  nebula?  with  its  multiple;  little  those 
"  dragons  of  the  prime  that  tare  each  other  in  their  slime  " 
imagine  that  out  of  their  conflicts  they  were  storing  up  in 
their  blood  a  courage,  energy,  and  pluck  that  were  to  fight 
the  great  battles  of  liberty  when  bayonets  were  to  be  the 
claws  and  steam  rams  the  tusks,  and  win  victories  for  truth 


Zoology  as  Related  to  Evolution.  221 

when  ideas  should  be  the  horns  and  arguments  the  jaws; 
little  that  early  batrachian,  who  called  his  mate  to  him  with 
a  croak,  foresee  that  his  vocal  faculty  was  to  go  on  develop- 
ing itself  through  human  voices  till  it  broke  forth  in  the 
eloquence  of  a  Demosthenes,  drove  reform  to  its  mark  in  the 
sarcasm  of  a  Phillips,  and  went  up  to  heaven  in  a  song  the 
angels  might  hush  their  own  to  hear  of  a  Nilsson  and  an 
Abbott.  Love,  with  its  mother  tenderness  and  its  sex-pas- 
sion climbing  in  humanity  to  what  splendors  of  poetry  and 
romance,  has  its  root  down  how  far  amid  the  tenants  of  the 
rocks.  Society  and  its  duties, and  that  "social  contract" 
about  which  philosophers  have  had  so  much  to  say,  were 
made  for  man  by  the  Rousseaus  and  St.  Simons  of  an  ances- 
try that  went  on  all  fours— had  already  been  in  existence 
millions  of  years  at  the  period  when  the  great  Frenchman 
thought  of  them  as  being  formed,  and  can  no  more  be  over- 
turned now  than  our  human  nature  itself.  A  large  part  of 
our  moral  uprightness  antedates  our  walking  physically  up- 
right. A  few  years  ago  a  family  on  the  Hudson,  going  away 
for  their  summer  vacation,  left  in  their  cellar  a  piece  of  meat 
which  they  showed  their  pet  dog  as  the  food  he  was  to  live 
on  in  their  absence.  The  dog,  however,  mistook  their  gest- 
ures and  supposed  it  was  food  he  was  meant  to  guard. 
Three  weeks  afterward,  the  family  returning,  found  the 
faithful  creature's  starved  bones  beside  the  untouched  meat. 
"Who  does  not  wish  that  at  least  an  equal  share  of  the  fidel- 
ity which  had  thus  come  down  to  the  little  dog  out  of  his 
brute  ancestry  had  descended  to  some  of  the  bank  presi- 
dents and  insurance-company  trustees  that  are  set  to  watch 
people's  financial  meat?  Even  as  regards  religion,  not  from 
the  lips  of  angels,  but  very  possibly  from  the  insight  of  ani- 
mals, did  its  first  knowledge  come.  The  terror  they  manifest 
in  the  presence  of  objects  which  to  them,  are  uncanny,  as 
when  a  horse  shies  at  a  bit  of  whirling  paper  or  at  anything 
in  motion  whose  propelling  power  he  does  not  see,  in  spite  of 
the  other  explanations  given  of  it,  is  impressively  like  the 
dread  which  lies  at  the  base  of  all  savage  worship  and  which 
civilized  man,  his  children  especially,  who  repeat  in  so 
many  ways  their  far-off  ancestral  experience,  feels  in  the 
dark  and"  at  the  hearing  of  strange  sounds.  It  suggests, 
how  inevitably,  their  common  origin  in  a  four-footed  wor- 
shiper who  was  their  common  progenitor — is  "  a  fear  of  the 
Lord"  starting  in  the  awful  shadow  of  primeval  woods 
that  was  the  beginning  of  a  wisdom  which  is  to  sing  and 


222  Zoology  as  Related  to  Evolution. 

soar  at  last  in  what  splendors  of  Christian  day !  *  And  with 
such  inheritances,  bodily  and  mental,  received  from  animals, 
is  it  not  about  time  that  the  words  brutal,  beastly,  and  the 
like,  as  designating  what  is  worst  in  man,  should  have  a 
rest?  The  really  brutal  and  beastly  qualities  we  have  de- 
rived from  them  are  often  a  hundredfold  more  and  better 
than  the  human  ones  that  the  persons  thus  described  have 
added  to  them  since.  Our  animal  infancy  as  a  race  is  just 
as  honorable  to  us  and  just  as  worthy  of  being  referred  to 
with  tender  regard  as  our  animal  infancy  as  individuals,  the 
two  being  exactly  of  a  piece.  And  instead  of  making  it  our 
aim,  "  working  out  the  beast,  to  let  the  ape  and  tiger  die," 
ought  we  not  rather  to  keep  them  in  us  tamed  and  civilized 
as  the  beasts  of  burden  to  carry  us  on  their  backs,  as  no  out- 
ward ones  can,  in  the  long,  long  way  our  human  nature  is 
yet  to  travel  ? 

IV.  It  is  a  question  which  opens  up  into  the  last  .and 
crowning  phase  that  zoology  as  interpreted  by  Darwin  has 
entered  upon,  and  that  is  a  morality  that  shall  include  ani- 
mals as  well  as  men  among  its  objects  and  a  religion  that 
shall  save  civilized  brutes  from  the  hell  so  many  of  them 
are  now  in  as  well  as  savage  heathen  from  the  one  they  are 
threatened  with  by  and  by.  What  hitherto  has  been  only  a 
kindly  sentiment  warring  against  the  wretched  cruelty  that 
in  so  many  forms  they  have  been  subject  to  is  based  by  The 
Origin  of  Species  and  The  Descent  of  Man  on  a  solid  foun- 
dation of  science.  Sharing  with  them  the  membership  of 
one  larger  animal  body,  we  inevitably  share  with  them  also 
the  great  Divine  law,  alike  natural  and  scriptural,  that  "  if 
one  member  suffer,  all  the  members  suffer  with  it,  and  if 
one  member  be  honored,  then  all  the  members  rejoice  with 
it."  A  lady,  on  getting  a  kitten  for  her  little  boy  to  play 

*  It  is  a  sensation  that  the  deep  woods,  which,  according  to  Darwin,  were  the 
probable  abode  of  man's  immediate  progenitors,  seem  to  have  pre-eminently  the 
power  to  produce.  Who,  when  wandering  alone  under  their  stately  arches,  has 
not  felt  in  some  degree  its  return— a  consciousness  of  something  not  found  in  the 
open  fields,  creeping  over  even  his  civilized  and  perhaps  skeptical  nerves  f  It 
suggests  the  reason  why  "the  groves  were  God's  first  temples,"  and  why  Gothic 
architecture  has  always  been  recognized  as  so  specially  consonant  with  the  more 
solemn  forms  of  worship.  And  is  it  not  also  an  explanation  of  the  fear  and  cre- 
dulity with  regard  to  witches,  hobgoblins,  the  Evil  One,  and  an  uncanny  super- 
natural presence  that  are  so  conspicuous  an  element  in  the  second  generation 
of  our  New  England  ancestry — the  overpowering  influence  of  the  primeval  forest, 
sweeping  the  soul  back  to  that  brute  sense  of  a  more  than  earthly  presence  per- 
vading it,  in  which  religion  began  ?  Subtle  and  wonderful  the  agencies  and  paths 
which  led  the  anthropoids  of  our  race  up  to  be  men,  their  long  sojourn  in  their 
arboreal  wilderness  not  only  giving  them  their  upright  bodily  attitude  and  devel- 
oped hands,  but  awakening  at  the  same  time,  as  nothing  else  could,  their  germ 
of  soul,  going  so  fitly  with  the  hands  and  with  the  bodily  uprightness. 


Zoology  as  Related  to  Evolution.  223 


with,  told  him  as  a  means  of  keeping  him  from  doing  it  hj 
that  only  half  of  it — the  hind  half — was  his,  and  that 


3  arm 
she 

was  going  to  keep  the  other  half — its  head — as  hers.  The 
next  day,  sitting  in  the  parlor,  she  overheard  a  terrible  cry 
of  animal  pain  coming  from  the  play-room,  and  exclaimed  : 


squawked."  And  that  is  what  Darwin  has  taught  us  with 
regard  to  the  whole  animal  kingdom,  man  included,  that  it 
is  only  a  larger  kitten,  and  that  cruelty  can  not  pinch  the 
meanest  worm  at  its  tail  without  having  its  farthest  human 
end  squawk,  can  not  do  any  part  of  it  needless  harm  with- 
out having  it  react  through  nerves  subtler  than  those  of 
flesh  and  harm  the  harmer  also — the  frightened  calf  poison 
its  eater,  and  the  whip  that  scars  the  horse's  flesh  at  one 
end  ply  an  unseen  lash  at  the  other,  scarring  with  its  every 
stroke  the  driver's  soul.  Kevealing  our  origin  from  a  com- 
mon stock,  it  is  not  only  the  good  Samaritan,  but  his  good 
ass  also  that  is  made  by  it  our  neighbor ;  not  only  the  sav- 
age man,  but  the  savage  beast  that  is  our  brother ;  not  only 
at  the  tomb  of  Adam  in  Palestine,  but  at  the  tomb  of  the 
Eozoon,  Nature-built,  in  the  primeval  rock,  that  we  can 
stand,  weeping,  if  we  will,  and  say,  "  A  distant  relative  to  be 
sure,  and  yet  a  relative."  And  all  the  reasons  that  ethics 
can  show  based  on  self-interest,  gratitude,  blood  connection, 
and  the  mystery  of  a  common  life-tie  for  the  exercise  of  jus- 
tice, kindness,  and  the  golden  rule  toward  the  lowest  man, 
it  shows  hold  equally  good  for  their  exercise  toward  the 
humblest  brute.  Philanthropy  is  widened  by  it  into  zooph- 
ily;  humanitarianism  into  panzoicism;  altruism  between, 
man  and  man  into  altruism  between  man  and  all  that  lives. 
It  completes  the  great  circle  that  theology  has  traveled  from 
its  finding  of  Deity  at  first  in  animals  out  in  its  search  for 
Him  into  the  Infinite,  and  then  back  through  man  to  its 
finding  of  Him  in  their  life  again — makes  it  the  word  of 
science  as  well  as  poetry  that 

"  He  prayeth  well  who  loveth  well 
Both  man  and  bird  and  beast." 

And  though  its  practical  influence  in  doing  away  with 
cruelty  is  yet  only  partially  felt,  it  has  the  potency  in  it  of 
truth,  and  it  is  as  sure  at  last  to  bring  about  a  reform  in 
their  treatment  as  Christianity  is  in  that  of  human  beings. 


224  Zoology  as  Related  to  Evolution. 

Darwin  was  the  apostle  to  the  gentiles  of  the  forest,  field, 
and  flood ;  the  Light  of  Asia  to  the  darkened  world  of  the 
brute ;  and  as  he  "  passed  on  "  to  his  great  discovery  it  is 
not  difficult  imagining  their  myriads  as  doing  for  him  what 
Arnold  represents  them  as  doing  for  Siddartha  of  old  : 

"  Large  wondering  eyes 

Of  woodland  creatures — panther,  boar,  and  deer — 
At  peace  that  eve  gazed  on  his  face  benign 
From  cave  and  thicket.    Bright  butterflies 
Fluttered  their  vans,  azure  and  green  and  gold, 
To  be  his  fan-bearers.    The  doves  flocked  round, 
And  e'en  the  creeping  things  were  'ware  and  glad. 
Voices  of  earth  and  air  joined  in  one  song 
Which  unto  ears  that  hear  said,  '  Lord  and  Friend, 
This  is  the  night  the  ages  waited  for .' " 

And  now,  under  the  reign  of  these  new  influences  in  their 
behalf,  what  does  evolution  point  to  as  likely  to  be  the 
whole  final  outcome  to  animals  from  their  long  struggle  for 
existence,  what  their  own  place  at  last  on  the  great  life-tree 
they  have  done  so  much  to  nourish — a  look  into  their  future 
which  surely  may  not  unfitly  close  our  look  into  their  long 
past?  Philosophers  are  not  wanting  who  have  held  that, 
sharers  of  man's  mortality  here,  they  will  be  sharers  of 
whatever  immortality  awaits  him  in  the  realms  beyond. 
Mourners  of  household  pets  have  easily  agreed  with  the 
poor  Indian 

"Who  thinks,  admitted  to  that  equal  sky, 
His  faithful  dog  will  bear  him  company.' 

And  there  are  some  sportsmen,  I  verily  believe,  animated 
with  a  somewhat  different  shade  of  interest,  to  whom  heaven 
would  lose  half  its  attraction  if  they  thought  its  river  of 
life  was  to  have  no  speckled  trout  in  its  waters  waiting  to 
be  caught,  its  tree  of  life  no  robins  and  squirrels  among  its 
branches  placed  there  to  be  shot  at,  its  New  Jerusalem  no 
blooded  trotters  on  its  golden  pave  to  be  bet  upon,  and  its 
fields  of  amaranth  and  asphodel  no  flying  fox  and  hunting 
hounds  to  gallop  over  in  the  merry  chase. 

But  without  speculating  on  their  condition  beyond  the 
realms  of  time,  we  can  reasonably  look  forward,  under  the 
light  of  evolution,  to  their  developing  side  by  side  with  man 
in  the  long  future  which  is  before  him  on  earth,  and  to 
their  sharing  with  him — at  least  their  more  saintly  repre- 
sentatives— that  ideal  state,  the  golden  age  of  heathendom 


Zoology  as  Related  to  Evolution.  225 

and  the  millennium  of  Christianity,  which  beyond  question 
our  existing  world  is  to  ripen  into  before  it  passes  on  to  its 
final  stage.  Mosquitoes  may  not  tune  their  voices  in  its 
dewy  airs,  nor  rattlesnakes  join  their  harps  in  its  choral 
song,  but  it  is  hard  to  think  of  a  perfect  earth,  even  with  its 
silver  questions  all  settled  and  its  social  problems  all  solved, 
that  is  not  to  be  musical  with  the  song  of  birds,  gi-aceful 
with  the  forms  of  quadrupeds,  and  alive  with  myriads  of 
the  happy  things  which  have  labored  so  long  to  build  it  up 
— as  hard  as  it  is  to  think  of  a  flower,  however  fair,  that  is 
not  the  fairer  when  encircled  with  its  chaplet  of  leaves.  Its 
poisonous  reptiles,  its  pestiferous  insects,  and  its  more  rav- 
enous and  untamable  beasts,  unrepenting  sinners  of  the 
swamp  and  fen,  will  doubtless  die  out,  for  universal  salva- 
tion, however  true  it  may  be  of  man,  and  even  of  the  old 
theological  serpent,  can  hardly  be  stretched  out  wide 
enough,  even  by  its  most  determined  advocate,  to  cover  the 
snake  in  the  grass  and  the  worm  in  the  flesh — killed  off  not 
so  much  by  human  hands  as  by  the  earth's  changing  clime. 
But  with  these  gone  it  will  be  all  the  easier  for  its  better 
ones  to  survive,  preserved  alike  by  Nature's  softened  laws 
and  man's  co-operating  care.  Its  woods  will  still  be  merry 
with  the  frisky  squirrel  and  its  airs  sweet  with  the  song  of 
birds ;  its  brooks  still  alive  with  the  silver  gleam  of  scales 
and  its  meadows  with  their  painted  butterflies  and  golden- 
trousered  bees ;  its  tropics  still  have  their  winged  rainbows 
and  feathered  gems ;  and  its  mountain  thrones  and  courts 
of  snow  their  eagle  kings  and  nature-ermined  lords.  The 
same  principle  of  ripened  stock,  better  living,  and  more 
mental  activity  that  operates  among  men  to  lay  the  Malthu- 
sian  specter  of  over-population  some  philosophers  are  now 
troubled  with,  will  obtain  among  animals  to  keep  their  num- 
bers from  ever  crowding  the  earth.  Death  will  round  off 
their  old  age  with  its  sleep  the  same  as  it  will  that  of  human 
beings  even  in  their  perfect  state — a  death  as  painless  as  that 
which  the  cells  of  our  bodies  in  passing  from  living  tissue 
to  waste  matter  already  every  day  undergo.  With  the 
earth's  grains  and  fruits  perfected  and  the  chemical  means 
discovered  of  producing  artificial  nitrogenous  foods,  all 
need  of  their  slaughter  and  all  taste  for  their  flesh  will 
have  passed  away.  Othello's  occupation  in  the  shambles 
and  at  the  meat  market,  as  well  as  his  like  one  on  the 
tented  field,  will  be  gone.  "We  shall  look  back  then  on  the 
days  of  humanity's  roast  mutton  with  as  much  horror  as  we 


226  Zoology  as  Related  to  Evolution. 

now  do  on  those  of  its  roast  missionary.     Sportsmen  will 
find  a  pleasure  in  watching  the  habits  of  animals  out  in  the 
millennial  woods  such  as  their  predecessors  never  thrilled 
with  in  accomplishing  their  destruction.     John  Smith  will 
no  longer  write  proudly  to  his  British  newspaper,  as  he  does 
now,  that  he  has  "  shot  a  nightingale  in  Devonshire,  the 
first  one  that  has  ever  strayed  there,  as  it  was  singing  on  a 
thorn-bush."     "  Deer   assassins,"  "  bird   murderers,"  "  fish 
pirates,"  and  "  buffalo  thugs  "  will  be  the  names  given  by 
the  newspapers  of  the  nineteen  hundredth  century  to  the 
killers  of  animals,  and  we  shall  then  say  of  vivisectionists 
and  of  ladies  with  birds  in  their  bonnets,  as  some  people  now 
do  of  the  Indians,  that  "  the  only  good   ones  are  the  dead 
ones."     Cruelty  in  the  treatment  of  them  will  everywhere 
give  place  to  kindness ;  dread  in  their  demeanor  to  confi- 
dence.    Monkeys  will  no  longer  examine  the  cakes  given 
them  by  little  boys  to  make  sure  that  they  contain  no  red 
pepper,  or  cats  go  a  roundabout  way  to  their  lying-in  places 
to  keep  their  kittens  from  being  drowned.     The  phrase  to 
"  lead  a  dog's  life  "  will  denote  in  that  age  a  very  desirable 
kind  of  existence ;  and  such  proverbs  as  "  slaving  like  a 
horse,"  "  uneasy  as  a  toad  under  a  harrow,"  and  "  getting 
the  wrong  pig  by  the  ear,"  will  need  for  our  children's  chil- 
dren in  the  thousandth  generation  a  dictionary  of  the  dead 
languages  for  their  explanation.     Good  society  will  open  its 
doors  to  take  in  other  and  worthier  representatives  of  their 
race  than  the  poodles  and  lap-dogs  its  "  four  hundred  "  are 
so  intimate  with  now.     Traits  and  qualities  which  exist  in 
them  at   present  only  as  a  germ  will  develop  under  the 
touch  of  kindly  companionship  into  forms  of  unsuspected 
beauty.     They  will  unite  in  drawing  all  together  as  one 
mighty  team,  without  lash  or  goad,  the  great  car  of  progress. 
And  at  last,  with  the  material  world  all  perfected,  as  some 
day  it  must  be,  and  our  human  world  all  freed  from  its  sins 
and  shames  and  wrongs,  as  some  day  it  shall  be — 

"  Every  tiger  madness  muzzled,  every  serpent  passion  killed, 
Every  grim  ravine  a  garden,  every  blazing  desert  tilled," 

love  shall  have  in  the  animal  world  all  forms  of  life  as  its  own ; 

"  The  spirit  of  the  Lord 
Lie  potent  upon  man  and  beast  and  bird  "  ; 

and  in  no  small  degree  literally  as  well  as  figuratively,  old 
Isaiah's  prophetic  vision  shall  be  fulfilled  :  "  The  lion  shall 


Zoology  as  Related  to  Evolution.  227 

eat  straw  like  the  ox ;  the  wolf  shall  dwell  with  the  lamb, 
and  the  leopard  shall  lie  down  with  the  kid,  and  the  fatliug 
and  the  young  lion  together,  and  a  little  child  shall  lead 
them,  and  they  shall  not  hurt  nor  destroy  in  all  my  holy 
mountain,  saith  the  Lord." 


228  Zoology  as  Related  to  Evolution. 


ABSTRACT   OF  THE   DISCUSSION. 

MR.  JAMES  A.  SKILTON  : 

In  this  instructive  and  delightful  essay  Mr.  Kimball  has  again 
shown,  as  he  did  in  that  delivered  before  the  Association  last  year, 
not  only  familiarity  with  the  scientific  side  of  his  subject,  but  a  unique 
talent  for  the  popular  presentation  of  it ;  and  again  he  leaves  little 
if  anything  to  be  added,  and  nothing  to  be  criticised.  He  has  doubt- 
less led  every  one  of  us  to  think  of  our  animal  pets,  associates,  and 
friends  of  the  present  or  of  the  past.  It  may  not  be  improper,  there- 
fore, for  me  to  offer,  for  you  and  for  myself,  some  testimony  in  regard 
to  character  as  exhibited  by  animals. 

I  have  this  evening  had  recalled  to  me  the  experiences  of  youth 
beyond  the  teens,  a  time  when  servants  had  not  yet  usurped  the 
privileges  and  opportunities  of  the  service  of  sons  to  fathers,  and 
when  I  had  the  constant,  sometimes  laborious,  but  always  enjoyable, 
companionship  and  charge  of  horses.  Not  all  my  teachers  were  as 
good  teachers  as  they.  By  their  docility,  fidelity,  and  obedience,  and 
by  their  exhibitions  of  endurance,  power,  and  speed,  they  not  only 
taught  me,  by  the  Proebelish  method  of  example,  in  the  minor  virtues, 
but  they  sometimes  fired  my  young  imagination  with  a  high  sense  of 
the  heroic.  One  among  them  was  Prince  by  name  and  prince  by 
nature.  It  often  became  our  joint  duty  to  bring  succor  to  the  sick, 
and  more  than  once  to  bring  life  to  the  dying.  He  was  a  tall  and 
powerful  dapple-gray  of  great  speed  and  with  a  grand  action  touched 
with  something  like  refinement.  A  blow  of  a  whip  seemed  to  arouse 
in  him  a  sort  of  divine  rage  terrible  to  the  beholder  and  combined 
with  a  sense  of  unmerited  dishonor  and  injustice  impossible  to  be  en- 
dured, while  a  touch  of  caress  was  met  first  with  a  look  and  next  with 
a  gentle  nip,  as  much  as  to  say :  Please  let  me  do  my  duty  without 
any  petting  and  for  the  pleasure  of  that  alone. 

In  some  subtle  way  he  seemed  to  know  how  to  gauge  emergency, 
and  on  our  errands  of  mercy  and  succor,  rushing  through  the  streets, 
there  were  times  when,  with  that  dancing  white  mane,  proudly  carried 
tail,  and  grand  air,  he  seemed  to  my  boyish  thought  to  have  almost  the 
port  and  stride  of  an  archangel. 

Even  after  he  went  blind  as  the  result  of  hard  work,  he  always 
pressed  straight  forward  in  the  harness,  without  faltering  or  turning 
to  either  side,  but  with  a  sort  of  sublime  trust  in  his  driver,  using  his 


Zoology  as  Related  to  Evolution.  229 

whole  energy  to  perform  the  task  put  upon  him.  I  am  not  ashamed 
to  say,  then,  and  you  will  not  be  surprised  to  hear  me  say,  that  when 
in  later  life  the  burden  has  been  great,  the  road  long,  and  the  lash  of 
brutality  has  seemed  about  to  strike,  I  have  sometimes  thought  of 
that  noble  horse,  his  great  endurance,  his  unconquerable  pride,  his 
spirit  and  his  fidelity,  as  supplying  examples  not  unworthy  to  be 
cherished  and  followed.  Indeed,  I  presume  the  question  must  have 
arisen  in  the  minds  of  most  of  us  :  Would  not  the  state  of  the  world 
be  greatly  better  than  it  is  if  men  had  lived  and  done  r.s  nearly  up  to 
their  capacity  and  duty  as  some  animals  constantly  do  I 

My  own  early  experiences,  then,  join  with  evolution  in  teaching  me 
that  character  is  a  common  possession  of  men  and  animals ;  and  also, 
possibly  in  rudimentary  form,  of  vegetal  life  as  well.  I  should  say  that 
all  three  belong  not  to  the  "  Kingdom,"  but  to  the  Republic  of  Nature, 
if  evolution  and  its  necessary  implications  are  true.  In  that  republic 
equal  justice  to  all  is  the  ruling  principle,  as  in  all  other  republics. 
The  essayist  has  suggested  that  in  the  "  good  time  coming  "  animals 
will  not  be  slaughtered  for  food  as  they  now  are.  It  is  by  no  means 
the  least  function  of  applied  evolution  to  effect  the  accomplishment  of 
this  result,  and  also  to  transfix  and  overthrow  the  Malthusian  dragon 
that  in  so  many  other  directions  blocks  the  way  not  only  of  human 
life,  but  of  all  life  and  societary  progress. 

I  thoroughly  believe,  with  the  essayist,  that  when  the  time  shall 
have  come  in  which  justice  shall  in  universal  practice  be  done  to  ani- 
mal and  plant  life,  the  vegetal  world  will  furnish,  and  best  furnish, 
the  necessary  foods  for  men  of  the  highest  possible  development,  and 
that  not  till  then  shall  we  have  "  Peace  on  sarth,  good  will  to  men,"  and 
to  every  living  thing,  in  the  most  complete  sense  of  the  word  "  living." 
In  fact,  it  is  one  of  the  lessons  of  the  gospel  of  evolution  that  if  man 
had  been  as  true  to  the  law  and  the  opportunity  of  his  being  as  ani- 
mals and  plants  have  been  to  theirs,  we  should  now  be  approaching 
that  better  and  possible  Eden  which  is  already  disclosed  as  we  look 
steadily  and  carefully  along  the  evolutionary  vista.  Indeed,  it  is  my 
own  firm  belief  that  it  was  along  a  similar  vista  the  incomparable 
man  was  looking  when  he  said,  ages  ago,  "  The  kingdom  of  Heaven  is 
at  hand." 

It  seems  to  me,  however,  that  the  animal  belongs  to  a  class  the 
future  of  which  may  be  said  to  be  in  the  main  behind  it.  Wild  ani- 
mals certainly  disappear  before  advancing  civilization,  and  they  re- 
appear again  before  retreating  civilization.  They  have  even  disap- 
peared before  it  already  to  some  extent,  and  apparently  must  do  so  in 
the  evolutionary  civilization  we  ought  to  have ;  and  so  do  domestic 
animals  in  proportion  as,  through  invention,  machines  and  other  prod- 


230  Zoology  as  Related  to  Evolution. 

ucts  of  invention  come  to  take  their  places  and  perform  their  functions. 
As  we  have  already  learned  in  another  connection,*  as  soon  as  the 
rational  faculty  in  man  reached  such  a  stage  as  to  enable  him  to  in- 
vent and  use  implements  and  tools,  he  began  to  become  independent 
of  his  own  muscular  development,  which  practically  ceased  at  that 
point  and  permitted  a  new  state  of  things  to  grow  out  of  the  new  co- 
ordinations developed  thereby.  Animals  have  furnished  man  with  a 
part  of  his  muscular  outfit  in  the  earlier  stages  of  his  evolution,  but  it 
would  seem  that  the  copartnership  of  man  with  animals  must  dimin- 
ish more  and  more,  in  its  relative  co-ordinations  at  least,  as  man  de- 
velops and  makes  use  of  the  new  co-ordinations. 

Has  not  the  animal,  then,  done  a  large  part  of  his  work,  and  is  he 
not  in  great  part  and  except  in  the  lower  forms  to  go  out,  leaving  the 
future  largely  to  man  and  to  vegetal  life  ? 

While,  then,  zoology  as  a  science  may  continue  to  make  progress 
for  a  season,  are  not  animals  as  such  largely  destined  to  extinction, 
having  had  their  day  and  done  their  work,  if  the  human  race  is  to 
continue  on  its  evolutionary  march,  and  is  not  zoology  therefore  to  be- 
come more  and  more  palasontological — a  science  of  fossil  and  extinct 
forms  of  life  f 

DR.  RICHARD  B.  WESTBROOK  : 

I  have  the  honor  to  bs  an  officer  of  the  Wagner  School  of  Science  in 
Philadelphia,  and  with  much  pleasure  attended  a  course  of  lectures 
in  that  institution  on  the  development  of  man  and  the  relations  be- 
tween the  lower  animals  and  human  beings.  I  think  the  ancients  ex- 
ceeded us  in  their  love  for  the  brute  creation,  and  even  the  pagans  of 
to-day  are  in  that  respect  in  advance  of  our  boasted  Christian  civiliza- 
tion. The  Buddhists  build  hospitals  for  their  domestic  animals,  and 
the  Hindoos  so  reverence  the  life  of  brute  creation  that  they  will  not 
permit  them  to  be  killed  for  food.  The  ancient  Egyptians  embalmed 
some  of  their  domestic  animals  and  revered  them  as  symbols  of  the 
Divine  power.  I  am  glad  to  have  had  an  opportunity  of  attending  a 
meeting  of  this  association,  of  the  work  of  which  I  have  known  some- 
thing through  its  publications,  and  have  listened  with  great  pleasure 
to  the  lecture  of  the  evening ;  and  though  I  came  to  listen,  with  no 
expectation  of  being  called  upon  to  speak,  I  am  glad  to  say  a  word  in 
favor  of  the  higher  development  of  our  American  people  in  that  de- 
partment of  ethics  which  treats  of  the  love  and  care  due  to  the  brute 
creation. 

*  See  essay  on  Mechanic  Arts,  Sociology,  pp.  196, 197. 


Zoology  as  Related  to  Evolution.  231 

DR.  LEWIS  G.  JANES: 

That  I  have  greatly  enjoyed  the  able  and  suggestive  paper  of  Mr. 
Kimball  goes  without  saying.  I  find  little  in  it  for  dissent  or  criti- 
cism. Possibly  I  may  not  carry  my  millennial  expectations  quite  so 
far  as  the  lecturer  has  indicated,  but  I  think  we  are  making  some 
progress  in  recognition  of  our  relationship  and  duties  to  our  brute 
neighbors.  Indeed,  I  go  so  far  as  to  dissent  from  the  last  speaker  and 
to  believe  that  we  are  in  advance  in  this  respect  not  only  of  the  an- 
cients, but  of  the  pagan  world  of  the  present  day.  I  doubt  very  much 
whether  the  ancients  or  the  modern  Buddhists  were  and  are  as  kind 
to  their  animals  as  we  have  been  led  to  suppose.  In  the  matter  of 
ethical  sanctions  we  constantly  find  two  diverse  attitudes  illustrated — 
that  of  authority  arbitrarily  imposed,  the  "  Thou  shall "  and  "  Thou 
shalt  not "  of  an  arbitrary  moral  code,  enforced  usually  by  religious 
aid,  and  that  of  the  higher  law  of  spontaneous  right  action  which  bids 
us  serve  the  right  for  love  of  such  service  and  which  ultimates  in  the 
extinction  of  the  sense  of  constraint  and  obligation.  The  ancient 
Egyptians  and  the  Buddhists  were  commanded  by  their  religion  to 
honor  certain  animals  and  refrain  from  killing  them,  yet  Prof. 
Haeekel,  in  his  Voyage  to  Ceylon,  speaks  indignantly  of  the  cruelties 
inflicted  by  the  Buddhists  of  that  country  on  their  domestic  animals 
which  only  stopped  short  of  the  infliction  of  death.  They  seemed  to 
see  no  wrong  in  torturing  and  maltreating  dumb  creatures  provided 
they  did  not  actually  kill  them.  Their  obedience  was  to  the  "  letter 
that  killeth  " ;  ours,  yet  far  from  complete,  is,  so  far  as  it  is  effective, 
intelligent,  and  ingrained,  a  recognition  of  the  spirit  which  giveth 
life.  The  lesson  of  the  duty  of  kindness  to  our  dumb  relations,  how- 
ever, is  yet  needed,  and  can  not  be  too  strongly  and  frequently  en- 
forced. 

DB.  P.  H.  VANDER  WEYDE  : 

I  had  anticipated  listening  to  a  lecture  of  a  somewhat  different 
character  this  evening — to  a  more  strictly  scientific  discussion  of  the 
evolution  of  animal  life.  As  life  develops  from  its  lowest  forms,  it 
differentiates  into  several  distinct  families  or  divisions  based  upon 
peculiarities  of  structure.  The  lowest  of  these  are  the  radiates,  of  which 
the  star-fish  is  a  familiar  example,  their  organs  and  limbs  being  built 
up  around  a  central  axis  as  a  plant  grows.  Next  we  have  the  articu- 
lata,  illustrated  by  many  insects  and  worms,  constructed  as  it  were  in 
distinct,  articulated  sections ;  and  these  are  followed  by  the  mollusca, 
or  oyster  class.  I  once  listened  to  a  lecture  by  Prof.  Agassiz  which 
was  devoted  to  proving  that  a  clam  was  more  intelligent  than  an 


232  Zoology  as  Related  to  Evolution. 

oyster.  So  good  an  observer  could  see  distinctions  not  obvious  to  the 
common  mind.  Nature  apparently  tries  to  show  in  how  many  ways 
she  may  exhibit  her  powers  of  variation.  Above  the  mollusca,  in  the 
order  of  evolution,  we  have  the  vertebrata — first  the  fishes,  then  the 
reptiles  and  creeping  things,  followed  by  the  quadrupeds,  at  last  rising 
erect  in  man.  In  the  development  of  the  higher  organisms  the  strife 
of  Nature  to  produce  a  higher  intelligence  becomes  evident,  the  brain 
becoming  more  and  more  predominant,  until  in  man,  where  intelli- 
gence reaches  its  highest  point,  it  is  placed  on  the  very  apex  of  the 
spinal  column.  According  to  Agassiz,  this  indicates  the  final  effort 
of  Nature  in  the  evolution  of  life ;  we  can  go  no  higher.  (Dr.  Van- 
der  Weyde  exhibited  and  explained  a  number  of  diagrams,  enlarged 
from  Haeckel's  Evolution  of  Man,  showing  the  remarkable  similarity 
of  the  chicken,  dog,  reptile,  and  man  in  the  earlier  stages  of  fcetal  de- 
velopment.) Man,  said  the  speaker,  advances  through  all  the  stages 
of  the  lower  animals,  and  then  goes  a  step  beyond  them  all.  In  no 
other  animal  does  the  brain  occupy  relatively  so  large  a  place  as  in 
man. 

MB.  KIMBALL  replied  briefly,  thanking  the  audience  for  its  attention 
and  the  critics  for  their  aid  in  the  development  of  the  topic  under 
discussion. 


FORM  AND  COLOR 
IN  NATURE 


BY 

WILLIAM  POTTS 

AUTHOR  OP  EVOLUTION  OF  VEGETAL  LIFE,  THE  SOCIALISTIC  METHOD,  ETC. 


17 


COLLATERAL  READINGS  SUGGESTED: 

Darwin's  Origin  of  Species,  and  Sexual  Selection ;  Wallace's  Dar- 
winism ;  Grant  Allen's  On  the  Colors  of  Flowers,  and  The  Color  Sense : 
Its  Origin  and  Development ;  Lubbock's  Flowers,  Fruits,  and  Leaves ; 
Peckham's  Sexual  Selection  in  Spiders;  Eimer's  Organic  Evolution 
as  a  Result  of  the  Inheritance  of  Acquired  Characters ;  Hinton's  Life 
in  Nature. 


FORM  AND  COLOR  IN  NATURE. 

BY  WILLIAM  POTTS. 

THE  subject  seems  a  very  simple  one,  but  when  I  place  it 
before  me  and  try  to  orient  myself,  the  simplicity  measurably 
disappears.  I  am  to  deal  with  something  which  is  both  sub- 
jective and  objective,  with  something  which  is  both  cause 
and  effect,  with  that  which  is  mental  and  that  which  is  phys- 
ical. And  at  the  very  outset  of  my  exposition  I  am  met  with 
the  inquiry,  "  What  is  Nature  ?  "  ' 

Should  I  ask  you  this  question,  you  would  probably  reply 
that  I  am  absurd — that  I  know  perfectly  well  what  Nature  is ; 
that  it  includes,  for  example,  all  the  birds  of  the  air.  Very 
good ;  is  a  f  antail  pigeon,  then,  a  part  of  Nature  ?  "  Cer- 
tainly," you  would  probably  reply.  Then  I  should  say,  But  a 
fantail  pigeon  is  simply  the  result  of  man's  ingenuity  in  the 
application  of  the  laws  of  selection  and  growth.  What  is  the 
Sistine  Madonna  but  the  result  of  man's  ingenuity  in  a  like 
application  of  the  laws  of  chemical  and  mechanical  com- 
bination ?  Is  there  anything  with  which  you  deal  which  is 
not  a  part  of  Nature  ?  Is  there  any  power  which  you  apply  to 
that  with  which  you  deal  which  does  not  come  from  Nature  ? 
"  Even  that  art  which  you  say  adds  to  Nature  is  an  art  that 
Nature  makes."  It  seems  to  me  not  quite  so  easy  a  matter 
arbitrarily  to  set  aside  a  certain  field  and  say,  "  This  is  Na- 
ture," and  another  and  say,  "  This  is  not  Nature." 

I  want  to  emphasize  this  a  little  in  the  interest  of  my  mo- 
nistic philosophy — to  enter  a  protest  in  advance,  as  it  were.  I 
confess  in  very  real  earnest  that  I  should  not  know  where  to 
draw  the  line ;  that  I  should  only  find  myself  limited  by  lack 
of  time  and  space.  I  suppose  that,  in  the  choice  of  the  sub- 
ject which  has  been  given  me,  there  was  simply  embodied  an 
intention  to  set  aside,  for  future  treatment,  the  arts  of  paint- 
ing, sculpture,  architecture,  etc.  I  am  to  speak  of  such  sim- 
ple matters,  for  instance,  as  a  flower.  Ah !  how  easy  I 

"  Flower  in  the  crannied  wall, 

I  pluck  you  out  of  the  crannies — 
Hold  you  here,  root  and  all,  in  my  hand, 
Little  flower— but  if  I  could  understand 


236  Form  and  Color  in  Nature. 

What  you  are,  root  and  all,  and  all  in  all, 
I  should  know  what  God  and  man  is." 

But  to  my  work. 

First,  as  to  the  concrete  meaning  of  our  other  terms.  By 
form  we  mean  usually  that  which  occupies  space  with  two 
dimensions — length  and  breadth ;  or  with  three  dimensions — 
length,  breadth,  and  thickness.  Your  mathematical  professor 
will  talk  to  you  learnedly  about  the  fourth  dimension  of 
space,  but  we,  who  find  it  difficult  enough  at  times  to  fill  out 
our  three  dimensions,  will  not  envy  him  his  fourth. 

I  shall  use  the  term  to  mean  that  which  has  length,  breadth, 
and  thickness — which  has  perceptible  limitations  in  all  direc- 
tions. 

Anticipating  somewhat  for  the  sake  of  completeness,  I  will 
add  that  we  can  perceive  form  in  two  ways :  through  vision 
and  through  tactual  perception  or  touch. 

By  color  we  mean  a  modification  of  that  which  we  call  light, 
the  character  of  which  I  should  experience  difficulty  in  de- 
fining, and  of  the  definition  of  which  I  am  happily  relieved 
at  the  moment,  as  I  hope,  by  your  knowledge. 

So  far  as  I  am  aware,  we  perceive  this  modification  of  light 
solely  through  vision.  Going  one  step  farther  back,  we  ap- 
prehend light,  and  color  as  a  resultant  of  light,  as  produced 
by  waves  or  pulses  of  exceeding  minuteness  and  great  rapid- 
ity, in  a  hypothetical  medium  called  the  ether,  which  is  sup- 
posed to  pervade  all  space,  and  therefore  to  penetrate  at  least 
between  the  particles  of  so-called  solid  bodies,  if  it  does  not 
pass  through  these  particles.  For  I  must  call  your  attention 
to  the  fact  that  the  deeper  we  go  in  the  investigation  of  mat- 
ters of  this  character,  the  more  we  are  thrown  back  upon 
hypothesis,  and  the  wider  will  be  found  the  differences  be- 
tween the  theories  of  different  investigators.  For  example, 
you  will  note  at  the  outset  two  diverse  theories  of  the  con- 
stitution of  what  we  call  matter ;  one,  that  it  consists  of  ex- 
tremely minute  particles  or  atoms,  separated  from  each  other, 
and  in  constant  agitation ;  the  other,  that  these  atoms  are 
themselves  simply  vortices,  or  centers  of  a  peculiar  motion. 

(And  perhaps  I  had  better  state  thus  early  that  this  essay 
must  of  necessity  be  an  almost  inextricable  tangle  of  fact 
and  hypothesis.  In  many  directions  we  are  merely  guessing 
the  unknown  from  the  known,  and  you  will  doubtless  find 
that  I  have  mingled  my  own  guesses  with  those  of  others.  I 
have  simply,  to  the  best  of  my  ability,  tried  to  indicate  what 


Form  and  Color  in  Nature.  237 

now  seems  to  me  to  be  true  concerning  the  matters  before 
me.) 

These  light  waves  in  the  ether  correspond  with  the  slower 
sound  waves  in  the  air,  which  we  perceive  by  means  of  the 
ear.  And  as  these  sound  waves  differ  in  length  and  rapidity, 
thus  producing  the  effect  which  we  recognize  as  high  and 
low  tones,  light  waves  also  differ  in  length  and  rapidity,  and 
thus  produce  the  effects  which  we  recognize  as  the  several 
colors.  This  can  be  illustrated  by  the  division  of  the  light 
ray  through  the  interposition  of  a  prism,  thus  producing  the 
spectrum. 

With  this  crude  explanation  of  our  terms  as  a  foundation, 
let  us  try  to  progress  systematically. 

We  divide  matter,  possibly  somewhat  arbitrarily,  into  two 
classes,  which  we  call,  respectively,  the  organic  and  the  inor- 
ganic. We  place  at  the  bottom  the  inorganic,  and  raise  upon 
it  our  ladder  of  life. 

This  inorganic  matter  we  subdivide  into  various  classes  in 
various  ways :  according  to  its  mechanical  situation,  so  to 
speak,  as  solid,  liquid  or  gaseous ;  according  to  its  chemical 
constitution,  as  metallic  or  otherwise — copper,  sulphur,  oxy- 
gen ;  or,  again,  according  to  its  composition  or  supposed  ori- 
gin in  a  crude  sense,  as  mineral,  etc.  To  inorganic  matter  in 
all  its  forms  we  attach  the  relation  of  color.  We  perceive 
such  matter  by  light,  either  transmitted  or  reflected.  In 
either  case  the  light  has  had  impressed  upon  it  a  certain 
character  which  causes  in  us  the  sensation  of  color.  If  we 
see  a  beam  of  clear  light  through  a  translucent  substance, 
such  as  glass,  or  a  membrane,  it  either  appears  clear  to  us,  or 
we  have  an  impression  of  color,  caused  by  the  fact  that  cer- 
tain waves  are  allowed  to  pass  freely,  while  others  are  inter- 
cepted. If  we  look  upon  an  object  upon  which  clear  light 
strikes,  it  either  appears  colorless,  or  we  nave  an  impression  of 
color,  because  certain  waves  are  absorbed,  or  pass  into  the  ob- 
ject, and  others  are  reflected,  or  thrown  back  upon  the  eye. 
And  according  as  the  surface  upon  which  the  light  falls  ig 
rough,  or  smooth,  or  polished,  according  as  it  may  be  crossed 
by  fine  lines,  or  may  be  delicately  laminated,  will  the  color 
vary.  And  all  conceivable  changes  may  be  rung  upon  the 
colors  which  appear. 

And  so  as  to  form.  What  form  is  not  to  be  found  in  the 
inorganic  world?  Omitting  the  gases  and  the  liquids,  the 
boundaries  of  which  may  be  roughly  considered  as  formed 
by  the  solid  bodies  against  which  they  flow,  in  the  solid 


238  Form  and  Color  in  Nature. 

matter  alone  with  which  we  are  familiar  the  forms  are  prac- 
tically infinite.  These  may  be  divided  primarily  into  crys- 
talline and  non-crystalline.  The  great  body  of  matter,  as 
we  know  it,  comes  within  the  non-crystalline  class,  and 
much  of  it  might  be  called  amorphous. 

Thus  we  have  the  inorganic  world,  characterized  by  form 
and  color  in  infinite  variety,  and  governed  by  laws  a  part 
of  which  we  know  and  of  much  of  which  we  are  ignorant. 
Still  trying  to  view  our  subject  systematically,  and  looking 
back  into  the  dim  past  as  far  as  we  can  safely  speculate,  we 
may  imagine  a  nebulous  body  of  diffused  matter,  inspired 
by,  led  by,  animated  or  endowed  with,  certain  tendencies.  I 
care  not  what  expression  you  use ;  I  simply  care  about  the 
thought :  of  substance,  or  that  which  for  the  sake  of  conven- 
ience we  may  call  substance,  characterized  by  certain  tend- 
encies— the  various  attractive  forces,  the  chemical  forces, 
the  vital  forces,  call  them  one,  call  them  many — they  are  all 
one  to  me ;  for  at  the  earliest  point  at  which  my  mind  can 
have  relation  to  the  universe  I  must  assume  it  to  be  already 
possessed  of  the  promise  and  the  potency  of  all  that  is  to 
come  of  it.  I  do  not  say  that  I  can  understand  this ;  I  do 
not  say  that  it  makes  speculation  easy.  As  I  have  stated 
here  before,  I  can  not  go  back  in  my  thought  to  a  time 
where  I  do  not  touch  upon  that  which  to  my  mind  is  im- 
possible and  inconceivable ;  nor  do  I  believe  that  any  one 
else  is  better  off  than  I. 

I  am  informed  that  there  are  those  who  do  understand 
all  these  things,  and  who  could  have  given  points  had 
they  been  called  upon  for  their  advice  at  the  proper  time. 
The  pity  of  it  is  that  this  appears  not  to  have  been  thought 
of,  and  we  are  left  to  mourn  our  fate  as  denizens  of  an  im- 
perfect and  faulty  universe.  In  the  evolution  of  language 
certain  popular  phrases,  one  after  another,  appear  and  dis- 
appear, having  while  they  are  current  a  certain  expressive- 
ness, tickling,  as  they  do,  our  jaded  fancies.  If  I  might  bor- 
row one  of  these  of  recent  origin,  I  should  say  that  "  I  have 
no  use  "  for  the  pretended  evolutionist,  who,  standing  upon 
this  globe  and  conscious  of  the  whirling,  living  universe  of 
which  he  is  a  part,  feels  no  sense  of  an  awful  power,  infinite 
and  incomprehensible,  which  eye  hath  not  seen  nor  ear  heard, 
and  the  nature  and  attributes  of  which  it  hath  not  entered 
into  the  heart  of  man  to  conceive.  At  the  only  beginning 
of  which  I  can  think,  the  universe  was  throbbing  with  this 
power.  I  imagine  the  nebulous  body  of  which  I  have  spoken 


Form  and  Color  in  Nature.  239 

revolving,  condensing,  dividing,  as  you  have  heretofore  heard 
described  by  other  lecturers.  The  first  form  which  emerges 
is  the  sphere  or  globe,  one  of  the  "  Heavenly  bodies,"  say 
the  Sun,  or  our  Earth. 

We  may  suppose  the  various  chemical  constituents  act- 
ing and  reacting  upon  one  another,  combining,  disintegrat- 
ing, recombining ;  affected  now  by  heat,  now  by  electricity, 
now  by  gravitation,  now  by  chemical  attraction ;  at  one  time 
by  these  several  forces  in  co-operation,  at  another  in  conflict 

Approaching  nearer  to  the  present,  we  find  that  this  earth 
of  ours  has  taken  a  definite  shape,  with  an  extended  solid 
crust,  resting  upon  an  interior  in  regard  to  the  condition  of 
which  we  can  only  speculate,  and  holding  in  the  depressions 
upon  its  surface  vast  expanses  of  liquid. 

The  result  of  the  conflict  of  the  various  forces  operating 
through  it  has  been  to  leave  most  of  it  in  what  may  be 
called  an  amorphous  condition.  But  while  this  is  so,  on  the 
other  hand  we  find  on  every  side  the  phenomenon  of  crys- 
tallization ;  we  find  that  as  it  worked  heretofore,  it  still 
works  in  a  multitude  of  ways,  but  that  ever  the  same  sub- 
stance obeys  the  same  imperious  command.  And  how  won- 
drous, how  beautiful  is  the  result !  Who  has  not  looked 
curiously  into  the  treasures  of  the  snow  ?  Many,  I  fear — 
but  I  hope  that  none  who  are  here  are  ignorant  of  them. 
Examine  the  fleecy  stranger  upon  your  sleeve,  and  if  he  has 
fallen  gently  he  will  reveal  a  marvelous  beauty.  Look 
upon  your  window-pane  and  see  forests  of  luxuriant  palms 
and  ferns,  the  very  tropics  in  ice.  Glance  even  at  the  flag- 
stones at  your  feet,  and  find  the  same  delicate  tracery. 
Does  this  insensate  matter  take  this  form  for  any  other 
reason  than  because — so  help  it  God — it  can  do  no  other- 
wise ?  And  so  with  the  diamond  and  the  chrysolite,  and 
the  emerald  and  the  malachite,  and  hundreds  and  hundreds 
of  other  crystals  which  you  dig  from  the  earth,  or  which 
form  themselves  in  the  chemist's  laboratory,  form  them- 
selves not  as  he  wills,  but  as  they  will.  Form  and  color  both 
are  here  !  Such  form  and  such  color  ! 

We  stand  at  the  parting  of  the  ways :  on  the  one  side 
"  mere  dead  matter,  as  people  are  wont  to  say ;  on  the 
other  "  life."  For  some  inexplicable  reason,  it  is  easier  for 
many  to  understand,  or  to  think  that  they  understand,  that 
which  takes  place  in  the  inorganic  world,  than  that  which 
takes  place  in  the  organic  world,  but  why,  I  can  not  compre- 
hend. It  is  all  a  mystery.  We  see  an  order  of  events,  and 


240  Form  and  Color  in  Nature. 

in  some  cases  we  see  that  a  certain  result  not  only  follows, 
but  is  produced  by,  a  certain  cause.  But  why  ?  I  defy 
mankind  to  answer.  Anything  which  happens,  anything 
which  ever  will  happen  or  could  happen,  is  as  simple  and 
as  easy  as  the  action  of  the  chemical  laws  and  of  the  laws 
of  attraction  in  their  most  familiar  operation.  "When, 
therefore,  we  take  the  step  across  the  Eubicon  which  we 
have  reached,  we  certainly  touch  that  which  is  remarkable, 
but  that  which  is  no  more  remarkable  than  what  we  have 
already  known.  "We  are  upon  the  very  border-land  of  what 
we  consider  the  kingdom  of  life.  "We  consider  it  so  simply 
because  here  we  begin  to  find  traces  of  the  operation  of  a 
tendency  which  hitherto  we  have  not  observed.  And  in 
what  do  we  find  it?  In  an  albuminous  substance  which 
appears  in  water  or  other  liquid,  which  we  can  not  recognize 
as  animal  or  vegetable,  and  which  has  no  apparent  organs 
or  distinction  of  parts.  Huxley,  indeed,  says  that  there 
appears  to  be  no  organic  substance  which  we  can  examine 
microscopically  which  does  not  seem  at  least  to  have  some 
distinction  between  the  surface  and  the  interior ;  but  this 
is  all. 

Haeckel  assumes  that  the  ordinary  chemical  and  attract- 
ive forces  with  whose  operations  we  have  in  a  certain  sense 
become  familiar  upon  the  other  side  of  the  line  are  all 
sufficient  to  account  for  the  origination  of  the  organic 
compound,  and  that  simple  pressure  and  condensation  com- 
plete the  process  of  the  formation  of  the  earliest  living  indi- 
viduals. It  may  be  so.  It  is  an  interesting  speculation, 
but  I  do  not  see  that  it  much  matters.  This  could  not 
happen  of  itself  without  a  tendency ,  whether  through  the 
known  laws  or  through  the  unknown  law,  any  more  than  a 
man  can  lift  himself  up  by  the  straps  of  his  boots.  All 
that  we  surely  see  is  an  order  of  development. 

The  first  individuals  which  we  can  examine  are  unicellu- 
lar, are  without  distinction  of  parts  so  far  as  we  can  judge, 
and  are  without  distinction  of  function,  excepting  that  the 
surface  incloses  the  interior.  Being  composed  of  the  same 
constituents  as  inorganic  matter,  they  are  subject  to  the 
same  or  similar  laws  as  to  exhibition  of  color. 

These  cells  are  driven  hither  and  thither  by  currents 
through  the  liquid  in  which  they  float,  changing  their  shape 
by  protrusion  of  parts,  absorbing  nourishment  and  increas- 
ing in  size,  and  multiplying  in  numbers  simply  by  division. 
Sometimes,  however,  although  divisions  are  formed,  the  cells 


Form  and  Color  in  Nature.  241 

remain  attached,  and  the  individual  becomes  a  congeries. 
Affected  by  forces  upon  every  side,  a  differentiation  gradually 
takes  place  ;  certain  portions  of  the  surface  become  firmer, 
others  softer ;  food  is  taken  in  at  certain  particular  points,  or 
at  one  point  alone — a  division  of  function  has  arisen.  A 
distinction  has  also  arisen  between  the  animal  and  the 
vegetable,  and  with  this  distinction  comes  a  difference  in 
constitution,  effecting  a  distinction  in  color.  The  vegetable 
forms  contain  an  ingredient  called  chlorophyl  which  re- 
flects the  green  rays ;  the  animal  tissue  reflects  the  brown 
and  gray.  I  speak,  of  course,  in  general  terms. 

Before  these  changes  have  taken  place  and  while  they 
are  proceeding,  we  notice  that  sensation  has  arisen — that 
is,  a  response  to  external  impressions.  And  here  let  me 
pause  to  call  attention  to  the  nature  of  physical  impressions, 
or  sensations,  as  we  know  them.  We  speak  of  our  five 
senses  :  of  sight,  of  hearing,  of  touch,  of  taste,  and  of  smell, 
not  meaning  that  these  terms  indicate  all  the  impressions 
which  we  perceive,  but  merely  using  a  traditional  expres- 
sion describing  certain  obvious  classes.  All  these  are  the 
result  of  different  qualities  and  quantities  of  motion.  Now, 
it  is  extremely  difficult,  perhaps  impossible,  for  us  to  pass 
back  through  the  various  forms  of  life  and  tell  with  any 
certainty  just  when  any  particular  sense  had  its  beginning, 
or  what  was  the  nature  of  that  beginning.  We  can  only 
perceive  these  things  when  they  have  acquired  a  certain 
definiteness  and  stability.  Nevertheless,  we  can  with  some 
degree  of  clearness  trace  their  development,  and  can,  I  think, 
safely  assume  that  the  first  of  them  which  was  acquired  was 
touch,  or  that  mere  susceptibility  to  impression  in  general 
which,  in  default  of  a  better  term,  we  may  entitle  touch. 
I  think  it  is  evident  also  that  whatever  sensitiveness  ex- 
isted at  the  outset  was  equally  present  in  all  parts  of  the 
individual. 

But  as  the  unicellular  individual  gave  rise  to  the  aggre- 
gation of  such,  and  as  in  this  aggregation  the  individuals 
gradually  surrendered  their  independence  and  assumed  spe- 
cific functions,  in  the  way  of  surface  protection,  of  the 
management  of  the  commissariat — the  receipt  and  disposi- 
tion of  food ;  as  the  avoidance  of  obstacles  and  the  search 
for  sustenance  gradually  gave  definiteness  and  direction  to 
motion,  the  sensations  of  different  parts  became  gradually 
differentiated.  It  would  be  natural — that  is,  in  accordance 
with  experience — to  expect  that  there  would  be  a  special 


242  Form  and  Color  in  Nature. 

concentration  of  sensibility  in  that  portion  which  was  ordi- 
narily directed  forward,  where  food  was  received,  and  where 
good  and  evil  influences  would  probably  oftenest  make 
themselves  felt. 

We  know  nothing  of  the  origin  of  the  sense  of  taste,  but 
happily  it  seems  least  to  require  an  exposition.  The  sense 
of  sight  is  connected  intimately  with  our  subject,  and  is  in- 
deed of  the  first  importance.  Let  us  see,  if  we  can,  what 
was  probably  the  method  of  its  production. 

Doubtless  most  of  you  have  noticed  potato  vines  which 
have  sprouted  in  your  cellars,  or  have  seen  other  vines  or 
plants  growing  in  rooms  which  were  dimly  lighted  from 
one  small  window  or  other  aperture.  If  so,  you  have  prob- 
ably also  noticed  their  lack  of  color,  and  have  seen  that 
they  were  struggling  toward  the  opening.  Even  these 
vegetable  growths  are  responsive  to  the  light,  and  the  same 
fact  you  have  seen  evidence  of,  if  you  have  not  noticed  it, 
a  thousand  times,  exhibited  in  many  ways.  Do  you  not 
place  your  vase  of  fringed  gentians  in  the  full  light  of  the 
generous  sun,  and  do  they  not  promptly  open  their  chalices 
to  drink  in  the  welcome  flood  ? 

Now,  this  sensitiveness  to  the  influence  of  light,  in  the 
beginning  shared  alike  by  vegetable  and  animal,  becomes 
greater  with  the  more  active  organism  and  greatest  in  that 
portion  of  its  surface  which  is  most  generally  sensitive  to  all 
impressions.  By  the  time  that  there  is  a  certain  differentia- 
tion of  function  in  the  parts  there  seems  to  be  the  initiation 
of  a  nervous  system  with  centers  of  activity  and  channels  of 
communication.  The  reaction  of  the  surroundings  upon 
the  individual  rapidly  tend  to  the  perfection  of  the  system. 
(Of  course,  in  describing  all  these  processes,  I  am  following 
the  development  of  forms,  not  giving  the  history  of  the 
changes  in  a  single  individual.)  Now,  hitherto,  such  color 
as  appears  is  of  the  nature  of  that  of  which  the  biologists 
speak  as  "  adventitious  " — that  is,  resulting  from  the  nature 
and  distribution  of  the  ingredients,  without  any  special  re- 
lation to  function,  or  to  specific  causes  which  materially 
affect  the  welfare  of  the  individual. 

But  investigation  seems  to  show  that  there  appeared  a 
greater  degree  of  sensitiveness  to  the  influence  of  light  in 
certain  otherwise  unimportant  pigmentary  deposits.  This 
greater  sensitiveness  having  once  been  initiated,  its  devel- 
opment by  natural  selection  seemed  to  follow  as  a  matter 
of  course.  The  motion  of  the  light-waves  impinging  upon 


Form  and  Color  in  Nature.  243 

the  surface  and  thus  affecting  and  exciting  the  nerves,  re- 
sulted by  wholesome  stimulation  in  increasing  their  sensi- 
tiveness. So  gradually  arose  a  condition  which  enabled 
the  individual  to  perceive  an  object  before  it,  perhaps,  as 
one  biologist  says,  about  as  we  perceive  our  hand  when  it  is 
passed  between  our  closed  eyes  and  the  light.  Such  an 
amount  of  vision,  although  seemingly  of  slight  importance, 
was,  we  may  infer,  sufficient  foundation  for  the  structural 
changes  which  have  followed,  resulting  in  the  formation  of 
the  eye  and  connecting  visual  organs,  as  we  know  them  in 
the  higher  animals. 

Please  note  that  it  is  not  the  eye — it  is  the  brain  which 
sees.  The  eye,  with  its  connections,  its  lens  and  coats  and 
nerves,  its  rods  and  cones  (which  I  am  sure  you  would  not 
thank  me  to  attempt  to  analyze  and  describe),  is  a  highly 
developed  mechanism,  although,  says  Helmholtz,  very  im- 
perfect, whose  function  is  to  convey  the  motions  of  the 
ether  to  the  brain,  which  must  interpret  them. 

I  apprehend  that  anybody  who  has  not  wholly  forgotten 
his  skating  days  can  remember  times  when  he  has  seen  a 
great  light  "  which  never  was  on  sea  or  land,"  and  which 
was  not  at  all  dependent  upon  the  ordinary  action  of  his 
visual  organs.  This  light  was  clearly  traceable  to  motion, 
but  to  motion  anything  but  ethereal  in  its  character.  I 
will  say  nothing  of  many  spectacles  which  we  have  all  of  us 
seen  with  our  eyes  closed,  both  while  awake  and  in  "  the 
visions  of  the  night  when  deep  sleep  falleth  upon  men," 
since  these  involve  other  questions. 

How  far  the  senses  of  smell  and  hearing  may  have 
been  developed  before  organic  life  passed  from  the  water 
into  the  air  I  am  not  aware  that  any  one  has  attempted  to 
investigate,  or  even  to  state  in  the  form  of  speculation. 
They  are  foreign  to  the  field  allotted  to  me,  and  I  will  only 
note  incidentally  one  or  two  points.  Sound  is  a  mental 
impression  resulting  from  wave  motion  in  the  air,  as  light 
and  color  are  mental  impressions  resulting  from  wave  mo- 
tions in  the  ether.  An  odor  is  a  mental  impression  which 
appears  to  result  from  motion  produced  by  fine  material 
particles  which  impinge  upon  the  proper  organ,  as  taste  is  a 
mental  impression  which  appears  to  result  from  motion  pro- 
duced by  a  material  substance  applied  to  the  palate. 

But  sound  may  be  perceived  without  the  intervention 
of  the  ear,  through  which  it  is  ordinarily  conveyed,  as 
taste  and  smell  may  be  perceived  without  the  direct  exci- 


244       .  Form  and  Color  in  Nature. 

tation  of  those  primary  membranes  which,  are  their  usual 
agencies. 

There  is  every  reason  to  believe  that  these  senses  also 
were  gradually  developed  through  the  reaction  of  the  indi- 
vidual to  the  environment,  as  has  been  described  in  the  case 
of  the  sense  of  sight. 

You  will  hardly  expect  me  to  go  through  all  the  argu- 
ments for  the  credibility  of  the  development  theory.  This 
straw  has  already  been  threshed  over  among  us  many  times, 
and  the  belief  in  the  theory  is  now  so  universal  among  sci- 
entific men  that  it  seems  as  useless  to  enter  into  argument 
upon  it  as  to  attempt  to  wrestle  with  Brother  Jasper.  That 
there  are  many  differences  in  the  manner  in  which  this 
theory  is  accepted  among  scientific  men  is  most  true.  Cope 
is  opposed  to  Wallace,  and  Eimer  to  Weissman ;  the  strict 
Darwinian  out-Darwins  Darwin,  and  some  of  the  neo-La- 
marckians  hark  back  of  them  all.  And  as  to  pretty  nearly 
all  alike,  we  sometimes  feel  that  in  their  arguments  it  is 
"  heads,  I  win ;  tails,  you  lose,"  so  ready  are  they  to  account 
for  apparent  exceptions  to  their  rules.  It  is  somewhat  as 
in  the  management  of  the  restless  child — after  trying  in 
vain  to  keep  it  in  its  place  they  say :  "  Then  get  up  and  run 
about,  for  I  will  be  minded." 

Sometimes  it  seems  to  us  that  their  difficulty  consists  in 
being  too  near  to  the  subjects  of  their  investigation ;  they 
are  like  our  venerated  friend  Yankee  Doodle,  of  whom  it  is 
said,  as  you  will  remember,  that  "  he  could  not  see  the  town 
for  so  many  houses." 

For  myself,  as  a  sympathetic  pupil  and  not  an  original 
investigator,  I  may  say  that,  after  a  pretty  wide  survey  of 
the  field  and  of  the  evidence  adduced,  my  leaning  is  toward 
the  later  Darwin  and,  measurably,  the  neo-Lamarckians. 

As  you  are  doubtless  aware,  the  main  contention  is  around 
the  question  whether  natural  selection  has  been  practically 
the  sole  agent  in  the  modification  of  species,  or  whether 
some  considerable  credit  is  also  to  be  given  to  use  and  dis- 
use and  to  inheritance.  There  is  also  a  struggle  over  the 
question  whether  there  is  an  inherent  tendency  to  vary  in  a 
certain  direction. 

Lamarck's  principal  cause  for  the  development  of  species 
was  functional  activity  and  habit,  acquired  in  adaptation  to 
environment  and  fixed  by  inheritance.  Darwin  realized 
and  pictured  the  intensity  of  the  struggle  for  existence 
which  inevitably  results  from  the  immense  productivity  of 


Form  and  Color  in  Nature.  245 

animal  and  vegetable  life,  showed  in  great  detail  the  amount 
of  variation  which  is  constantly  occurring,  and  therefrom 
conclusively  proved  the  inevitableness  of  natural  selection 
and  the  survival  of  the  fittest  as  an  important  controlling 
factor  in  the  development  of  species.  He  never,  however, 
contended  that  this  was  the  sole  factor,  and,  with  the  free- 
dom from  bias  which  always  characterized  him,  during  his 
later  years  he  was  disposed  to  grant  more  importance  to  use 
and  to  sexual  selection  than  he  had  formerly  been  ready  to 
allow.  Wallace,  his  co-discoverer  of  the  principle  of  natural 
selection,  has  not  been  disposed  to  accompany  him  in  his 
later  conclusions,  and  in  his  "  Darwinism,"  printed  last  year, 
he  reiterates  and  argues  at  great  length  for  his  thesis  that 
natural  selection  has  been  the  principal,  and  practically  the 
sole,  cause  of  development.  I  think,  however,  that  it  is  im- 
possible to  read  his  work  without  being  impressed  with  the 
strength  of  his  bias,  and  to  me  the  alteration  of  his  attitude 
when  he  comes  to  treat  of  mental  phenomena  and  of  man 
is  almost  ludicrous.  I  can  not  think  of  it  as  otherwise  than 
strikingly  inconsistent. 

Those  of  you  who  heard  Prof.  Cope's  lecture  in  this  place 
a  few  mouths  ago  will  remember  into  what  detail  he  entered 
in  confutation  of  Mr.  Wallace.  Mr.  Cope  is  perhaps  dis- 
posed to  go  further  even  than  Darwin  in  the  direction  of 
Lamarck.  Herr  Eimer  also  is  a  neo-Lamarckian,  laying 
great  stress  upon  the  effect  of  use  and  habit  and  upon  the 
inheritance  of  acquired  characters.  He  has  done  a  most 
useful  work  in  the  accumulation  of  evidence  upon  the  lat- 
ter point,  and  among  this  evidence  there  is  not  a  little  of 
seeming  incontrovertibility  touching  the  inheritance  even 
of  physical  mutilations,  such  as  the  loss  of  a  finger  or  a  scar 
upon  some  particular  part  of  the  person,  as  well  as  of  a  tend- 
ency to  certain  diseases. 

Eimer  contends  that  there  is  a  principle  of  growth  or 
development  in  organic  nature  which  corresponds  with  the 
inorganic  tendency  to  a  certain  form  of  crystallization,  and 
that  natural  selection  acts  upon  the  variations  thus  pro- 
duced and  sifts  out  those  which  are  to  endure.  I  can  not 
discover  anything  so  heinous  in  this  theory;  on  the  con- 
trary, it  seems  to  me  most  consonant  with  that  which  we 
see  m  other  fields,  of  an  all-controlling  law  or  living  pres- 
ence, a  persisting  force  which  produces  results  through  an 
intricate  system  of  checks  and  balances. 

Herr  Weissman,  on  the  contrary,  whom  Wallace  quotes 


246  Form  and  Color  in  Nature. 

with  approval,  believes  in  natural  selection  and  pammixis, 
or  the  combination  by  marriage  of  varying  types  alone,  as 
the  causes  of  the  origin  of  species,  and  wholly  repudiates 
the  inheritability  of  acquired  characters.  He  develops  a 
peculiar  theory  of  the  continuity  of  the  germ-plasm — that  a 
portion  of  the  original  germ  itself  and  not  a  new  germ 
passes  from  individual  to  individual  in  the  line  of  descent, 
and  that  modification  comes  alone  through  the  crossing  of 
varieties  in  the  germ.  That  this  is  an  absolutely  unproved, 
if  not  an  absolutely  unprovable,  hypothesis  is  perhaps  its 
weakest  feature.  Possibly  the,  best  sentences  in  Mr.  James 
Hinton's  curious,  interesting,  and  very  disappointing  book, 
Life  in  Nature,  are  these :  "  Let  it  be  assumed,  for  argu- 
ment's sake,  that  all  the  phenomena  of  life  could  be  traced 
back  to  chemical  and  mechanical  powers,  what  would  fol- 
low? Simply  that  all  the  wonder  and  admiration  with 
which  we  now  regard  the  living  body  would  be  extended 
with  increased  intensity  and  elevation  to  those  powers  which 
we  call  chemistry  or  mechanics,  but  which  we  would  then 
perceive  we  had  entirely  underestimated."  Whatever  dif- 
ferences there  may  be  in  regard  to  more  or  less,  I  suppose 
that  most  of  our  men  of  science  of  good  standing  are  agreed 
that  the  struggle  for  existence,  variation  in  individuals  from 
whatever  cause,  natural  selection,  and  the  survival  of  the 
fittest,  are  stages  of  the  most  important  process  in  the  de- 
velopment of  species.  Variation  in  minor  particulars  is 
shown  to  be  of  the  widest  occurrence.  Those  variations 
which  prove  useful  in  any  way  tend  so  far  to  give  the  indi- 
viduals in  which  they  occur  an  advantage  over  others,  and 
so  enable  them  to  leave  posterity ;  and  a  repetition  of  the 
same  variations,  accompanied  by  similar  advantages,  -tends 
toward  permanency  and  toward  an  increase  of  the  acquired 
peculiarities. 

If  I  should  now  attempt  to  do  badly  what  was  so  mag- 
nificently done  last  winter  by  Mr.  Kimball  in  relation  to  an 
important  branch  of  the  development  of  form,  I  certainly 
should  not  thereby  establish  a  reputation  for  wisdom.  If 
there  be  any  present  who  failed  to  hear  Mr.  Kimball's  fas- 
cinating essay  upon  The  Evolution  of  Arms  and  Armor — the 
finest  piece  of  work  which  has  ever  been  done  in  this  field — 
I  should  advise  him  or  her  to  lose  no  time  in  reading  it. 
Its  burden  is  the  burden  of  war :  how  the  struggle  for 
existence  led  to  attack  and  defense,  and  these  to  altera- 
tions in  structure  for  the  one  purpose  or  the  other,  each 


Form  and  Color  in  Nature.  247 

keeping  pace  with  each,  as  the  rifled  cannon  and  the  dyna- 
mite gun  with  the  ironclad.  This  was  done  by  him  in  so 
masterly  a  manner  that  I  will  pass  on  to  other  phases  of  the 
matter. 

The  wealth  of  materials  which  has  been  gathered  in  illus- 
tration of  the  various  branches  of  our  subject  is  such  that 
one  is  at  a  loss  to  select  from  it.  Perhaps  I  can  not  do  bet- 
ter than  to  take  up  the  development  of  flowers  and  fruits 
and  their  relation  to  insects  and  birds.  In  this  field  Mr. 
Darwin,  Mr.  Grant  Allen,  and  Sir  John  Lubbock  have  all 
been  industrious  workers. 

Broadly  speaking,  the  order  of  the  changes  in  the  method 
of  reproduction  in  organisms  has  been  as  follows :  First, 
through  mere  multiplication  by  fission  or  division ;  then 
through  the  conjunction  and  blending  of  apparently  similar 
individuals;  then  through  the  combined  action  of  certain 
specialized  organs  in  the  individual ;  and,  finally,  through 
the  co-operation  of  distinct  and  different  individualities. 
There  have  been  and  are  some  cases  which  must  be  consid- 
ered more  complex  than  the  foregoing  statement  implies, 
but  for  the  present  this  is  sufficient  for  our  purpose.  All 
these  methods  are  still  in  use  and  their  operation  may  in  a 
measure  be  followed.  Now,  as  organization  has  become 
more  complex,  investigation  seems  to  show  that  vigor  has 
resulted  from  cross-fertilization  even  where  both  elements 
were  to  be  found  in  the  same  individual.  This  conclusion 
and  the  circumstances  connected  with  it  can  best  be  traced 
in  the  vegetable  world,  where  the  various  processes  are  to  a 
degree  open  to  inspection. 

Making  a  long  stride  over  the  less  elaborate  forms,  where 
the  causes  of  change  have  been  more  obscure,  and  taking  up 
the  phanerogams  or  true  flowering  plants,  we  are  at  once 
met  with  a  question  as  to  the  origin  of  the  primitive  flower. 
It  is  commonly  held  by  botanists  that  all  the  parts  of  a 
flower  of  the  more  familiar  kind — the  sepals,  the  petals,  the 
stamens,  and  pistils — are  simply  modified  leaves.  The  origi- 
nal flower  was  undoubtedly  a  very  simple  affair  compared 
with  that  which  we  now  see,  and  we  may  liken  it  to  a  bud, 
which  consists  of  an  unfolded  cluster  of  leaves.  Still  more 
bud-like  is  something  which  is  found  on  the  common  violet. 
This  blossoms  profusely,  but  ordinary  flowers  in  certain 
species  produce  but  few  seeds.  There  is  upon  the  same 
plant,  however,  another  class  of  flowers  called  cleistogamic, 
which  do  not  open,  but  nevertheless  produce  seeds,  and 


248  Form  and  Color  in  Nature. 

these  are  occasionally  found  below  the  surface  of  the  soil. 
Some  other  plants  produce  seeds  under  ground  without 
opening  flowers.  A  most  curious  case  of  quite  a  different  char- 
acter is  the  common  ground-nut  or  peanut,  dear  to  the  gallery 
gods,  which  forms  a  yellow  flower  in  the  axil  of  the  leaf, 
and  the  stigma,  then  lengthening  into  a  tendril-like  form, 
buries  itself  in  the  ground  and  develops  the  fruit  at  its  ex- 
tremity. A  bud  which  never  becomes  a  flower  is  the  bulb- 
let  which  forms  itself  in  the  axil  of  the  leaf  of  the  tiger-lily 
and  then  becomes  detached,  ready  to  produce  a  new  plant. 

The  ordinary  color  of  vegetables  is  green,  with  more  or 
less  tendency  toward  yellow,  though  many  plants  sometimes 
show  red  or  some  other  color  at  certain  points.  In  the  or- 
dinary processes  of  vegetation  carbon  is  absorbed  and  oxygen 
is  given  out.  "When  for  any  cause  this  process  is  reversed, 
it  is  held  by  some  authorities  to  be  proved  that  there  is  a 
tendency  to  the  production  of  other  colors.  Such  is  the 
condition  in  the  process  of  flowering  and  fruiting. 

The  original  flower  was  probably  minute,  and  consisted 
of  the  representatives  of  the  male  and  female  elements 
alone.  Instances  of  this  kind  are  now  to  be  found.  The 
first  variation  of  color  was  probably  to  yellow.  Supposing 
that  vigor  was  the  result  of  cross-fertilization,  those  plants 
which  varied  so  as  to  make  cross-fertilization  probable  were 
most  likely  to  gain  a  strong  foothold.  The  earliest  method 
of  cross-fertilization  seems  to  have  been  by  means  of  the 
wind,  and  so  we  find  a  large  class  of  plants,  many  of  them 
with  greenish  or  yellowish  blossoms,  individually  incon- 
spicuous, but  frequently  collected  in  numbers  in  aments  or 
catkins,  the  anthers  hanging  loosely  and  scattering  a  shower 
of  pollen  on  the  air.  The  risk  of  loss  by  this  process  is  so 
great  that  a  prodigious  waste  must  be  suffered  in  order  to 
insure  success  in  effecting  the  object.  The  crowded  grasses 
are  of  this  class,  but  there  are  also  many  large  trees  which 
bear  their  blossoms  high  in  the  air  where  the  wind  may 
have  free  access  to  them,  and  these  frequently  tint  the 
ground  around  them  with  their  pollen.  This,  however,  is 
a  very  expensive  way  of  providing  for  fertilization.  An 
animate  helper  with  a  brain,  or  its  equivalent,  is  more  eco- 
nomical than  the  inanimate  wind,  and  so  it  happens  that 
the  insect  world  was  brought  into  relation  of  interdepend- 
ence with  the  vegetable  world,  to  the  wonderful  transforma- 
tion of  both.  In  all  probability  the  beginning  of  this  pro- 
cess was  of  the  simplest  character.  Some  one  plant,  or  some 


Form  and  Color  in  Nature.  249 

hundred  or  some  thousand  plants,  exuded  a  drop  of  sweet 
sap  about  the  imperfect  blossom,  and  wandering  ants,  or 
bees,  or  butterflies  happened  upon  it,  and  found  it  good. 
Having  emptied  one,  the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world 
was  to  try  another.  The  pollen  accidentally  caught  upon  the 
head  or  the  wings  was  carried  along,  and  cross-fertilization 
was  effected.  Time  will  not  permit  us  to  follow  all  the 
steps,  necessarily  hypothetical,  though  substantially  evident. 
It  is  sufficient  to  point  out  that  the  plants  which  were  thus 
aided  would  be  likely  to  perpetuate  their  race  and  to  devel- 
op their  peculiarities  ;  that  the  insects  which  were  benefited 
were  likely  to  acquire  the  habit  of  visiting  the  flowers  which 
had  proved  valuable  to  them ;  that  those  flowers,  in  turn, 
which  most  quickly  and  certainly  attracted  the  attention  of 
their  useful  guests  would  be  those  which  would  most  profit 
by  their  visits.  Thus  there  does  not  seem  to  remain  a 
shadow  of  a  doubt  that  by  reciprocal  action  on  the  part  of 
the  insects  and  the  flowers  the  showy  petals  and  their  varied 
colors  were  produced.  At  first  the  petals  were  inconspicu- 
ous or  absent.  When  they  appeared  they  were  separate. 
As  the  development  proceeded  they  began  to  coalesce,  and 
this  tendency  became  greater  and  greater,  until  in  some  in- 
stances the  individual  petals  totally  disappeared,  or  left  mere 
traces,  as  in  the  tubular  flowers.  At  the  same  time  regu- 
larity of  form  gave  place  to  irregularity  in  many  instances, 
and  this  coincided  with  insect  changes.  As  the  tube  of  the 
flower  lengthened,  the  proboscis  of  the  insect  lengthened 
likewise,  and  certain  flowers  became  the  feeding  places  of 
special  insects,  upon  which  they  wholly  depended  for  fertili- 
zation. In  some  instances  the  most  elaborate  arrangements 
have  been  evolved  to  prevent  self-fertilization  and  to  insure 
fertilization  by  the  special  insects  upon  which  the  flower 
relies.  The  number  of  flowers  of  which  this  is  true  is  enor- 
mous, and  these  among  the  most  common,  as  well  as  among 
the  most  rare.  A  special  study  was  made  by  Darwin  of  the 
orchids,  the  arrangements  in  which  family  are  of  the  most 
curious  and  elaborate  description. 

You  will  readily  see  that  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  enter 
upon  detailed  descriptions  of  these  cases,  of  which  the  books 
are  full,  and  which  any  of  you  can  observe  for  himself. 
And  no  description  can  be  needed  to  show  you  the  nature 
of  the  process.  Take,  for  instance,  the  matter  of  color  in 
the  blossom.  "We  know  that  at  this  moment  most  flowers 
tend  to  vary  more  or  less  in  color  or  tint.  Such  .tendency 
18 


250  Form  and  Color  in  Nature. 

doubtless  always  existed.  Suppose  that  at  some  time  a  va- 
riation in  color  occurred  simultaneously  with  an  increased 
secretion  of  honey,  as  we  call  it,  an  occurrence  which  we 
may  assume  would  inevitably  take  place.  This  variation 
would  tend  to  be  perpetuated  and  to  increase,  because  it 
would  be  as  a  signal  held  out  for  assistance,  to  secure  exten- 
sion and  propagation.  So  in  regard  to  increase  in  size  on  the 
part  of  the  flowers,  or  other  changes  to  meet  the  necessities 
of  the  situation,  and  make  sure  the  perpetuation  of  the  race. 
At  the  same  time  adaptation  to  the  surroundings  must  have 
continued  in  other  directions,  and  forms  and  habits  must 
have  been  varied  accordingly. 

Now,  these  modifications  of  color  would  have  been  of  no 
possible  advantage  in  the  direction  which  I  have  indicated 
unless  the  insects  could  recognize  them.  It  therefore  fol- 
lows that  as  the  colors  were  developed,  by  reaction  the  color 
sense  was  developed  and  increased  in  the  insects.  Some  natu- 
ralists have  seemed  to  doubt  whether  any  real  color  sense  or 
enjoyment  of  color  exists  on  the  part  of  insects.  After  the 
investigations  which  have  been  made  during  late  years,  how- 
ever, there  is  no  l6nger  any  possible  room  for  doubt  as  to 
the  existence  of  the  sense,  at  least.  Among  other  experi- 
ments, those  made  in  regard  to  the  color  sense  in  wasps,  by 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Peckham,  of  Milwaukee,  were  extremely 
painstaking  and  elaborate,  and  should  certainly  set  this 
question  at  rest  forever.  As  to  the  matter  of  enjoyment  of 
color,  that  is,  of  course,  a  far  more  difficult  question  to  an- 
swer. Grant  Allen's  theory  is,  that  the  exercise  of  the  color 
sense,  developed  in  the  manner  which  I  have  indicated,  be- 
came a  natural  function,  and  that  all  natural  functions  in 
their  normal  exercise  are  pleasurable.  He  assumes,  there- 
fore, that  it  is  not  extravagant  to  believe  that,  even  in  or- 
ganisms of  no  higher  stage  than  this,  an  actual  taste  for  or 
enjoyment  of  color  may  have  arisen,  and  that  this  may  have 
had  a  not  unimportant  effect  upon  the  color  of  the  insects 
themselves  through  sexual  selection,  a  subject  in  regard  to 
which  I  shall  have  more  to  say  in  a  few  moments. 

So  much,  or  so  little,  for  the  flowers  and  the  insects ;  the 
fruits  and  the  birds  seem  to  have  had  a  somewhat  similar 
relation.  But  the  fruits  have  sought  to  secure  their  distri- 
bution in  many  other  ways  besides.  Technically,  the  fruit  is 
the  seed  vessel  with  the  seeds.  Primarily,  it  was  probably 
very  minute  and  simple,  and  the  seeds  when  ripe  fell  directly 
to  the  ground  and  quickly  germinated.  But  as  space  be- 


Form  and  Color  in  Nature.  251 

came  crowded,  no  field  was  left  for  the  new-comers ;  not 
even  standing  room  was  to  be  had,  and  any  variation  which 
made  dispersion  probable  tended  to  perpetuate  itself.  Thus 
many  seeds  gradually  developed  plumes  or  membranous 
wings,  and  so,  borne  on  the  wind,  were  carried  to  "  fresh 
woods  and  pastures  new."  Others  developed  curious  spines 
or  hooks  or  viscid  exudations,  by  which  they  caught  in  the 
hair  or  wool  of  animals,  and  were  carried  away.  Others 
again  accumulated  edible  substance,  by  which  birds  or  mam- 
mals might  be  lured,  and  many  of  these,  to  draw  attention 
to  them  among  the  surrounding  leaves,  put  on  contrasting 
colors  of  yellow,  or  red,  or  purple,  or  blue — an  enormous  va- 
riety. And  all  sorts  of  devices  were  used  to  make  the  fruits 
attractive.  Sometimes,  as  in  the  apple,  it  was  the  calyx 
which  gathered  nourishment,  increased  and  softened  and 
enveloped  the  seeds  which  were  inclosed  within  a  scaly 
sack ;  sometimes,  as  in  the  fig,  a  large  number  of  blossoms 
and  seed-vessels  were  inclosed  within  a  common  receptacle, 
which  likewise  developed.  Sometimes,  as  in  the  raspberry, 
a  multitude  of  seeds,  each  surrounded  by  its  own  fleshy 
pulp,  were  clustered  upon  the  receptacle.  Again,  as  in  the 
strawberry,  the  receptacle  itself  became  fleshy  and  bore  the 
seeds  in  depressions  upon  the  surface — the  fig,  as  it  were, 
turned  inside  out.  And  to  protect  the  seeds  from  destruc- 
tion by  the  animals  which  swallowed  them,  they  were  often 
very  minute,  and  were  usually  covered  with  a  hard,  scaly 
shell.  Then  again,  as  in  the  peach,  the  seed  has  become 
large,  but  the  shell  is  of  great  density  and  difficult  to  break. 
Then,  as  in  many  of  the  nuts,  the  kernel  is  first  protected 
by  a  hard  shell,  and  this  in  turn  is  covered  with  a  bitter 
rind.  In  the  case  of  the  cocoanut,  the  tree  bears  its  fruit 
far  away  from  all  enemies  excepting  the  monkeys,  at  the 
summit  of  a  tall,  slender  stem,  and  then  protects  it  with  a 
hard  shell,  and  covers  this  again  with  a  thick  fibrous  mat- 
ting, which  prevents  it  from  splitting  when  it  falls  to  the 
ground.  You  can  readily  see  how  minute  variations  in  all 
these  directions,  by  providing  increased  protection  to  the 
seeds,  and  therefore  insuring  germination,  would  tend  to 
increase,  and  become  more  and  more  distinct  and  peculiar. 

The  birds  have  had  most  to  do  with  the  smaller  fruits,  the 
berries,  etc.,  and  mammals  with  the  larger  ones. 

Fruits  of  many  kinds  have  tended  to  accumulate  sugar 
and  other  nutritious  substances,  sometimes  in  the  seed 
itself,  often  in  its  protective  covering,  and  this  of  course  has 


252  Form  and  Color  in  Nature. 

been  usually  the  attraction.  A  large  share  of  our  own  diet, 
and  of  that  of  other  animals,  is  of  such  a  nature.  It  has 
only  been  made  possible  for  man  to  continue  to  find  nour- 
ishment of  this  character  through  the  care  which  he  has 
himself  taken  to  insure  the  supply,  by  special  cultivation  of 
such  crops  as  wheat,  etc.  In  the  case  of  the  nuts,  which 
have  been  in  the  special  charge  of  the  squirrels  and  their 
like,  it  is  supposed  that  the  trees  have  found  their  profit 
through  the  squirrel's  habit  of  burying  nuts  for  future  ref- 
erence, and  then  frequently  forgetting  their  hiding  place. 

It  was  believed  by  Darwin,  who  supported  his  opinion  by 
a  vast  amount  of  evidence,  that  a  great  part  of  the  variety 
of  color  found  in  the  animal  kingdom,  and  no  insignificant 
portion  of  the  variety  in  form,  were  due  to  sexual  selection 
— that  is,  to  the  accumulation  of  minute  variations  in  these 
particulars,  through  the  exercise  of  a  certain  degree  of 
choice  in  mating,  on  the  part  of  the  sexes.  This  hypothesis 
has  been  supported  by  Grant  Allen,  Mr.  Poulton,  Prof. 
Peckham,  and  others,  and  very  vigorously  opposed  by  Al- 
fred Eussel  Wallace,  although,  as  it  seems  to  me,  in  a  some- 
what halting  fashion,  and  with  concessions  which  seriously 
damage  his  argument. 

Mr.  Darwin's  investigations  seem  to  show  the  exercise  of 
a  certain  choice  on  the  part  of  the  female  as  to  her  mate, 
even  as  low  down  in  the  scale  of  development  as  the  fishes, 
and  in  more  stylish  circles  a  noteworthy  amount  of  fastidi- 
ousness is  exhibited,  often,  it  is  claimed,  accompanied  by  a 
careful  consideration  of  personal  appearance.  Mr.  Wallace 
doubts  if  the  female  in  the  lower  ranks  of  animal  life  has 
any  aesthetic  preferences,  but,  if  she  has  not,  it  would 
seem  that  there  is  a  sad  waste  of  time  in  the  prelimi- 
naries of  courtship  upon  the  part  of  the  males.  The  de- 
tails which  have  been  recorded  by  different  observers  are 
in  many  cases  extremely  curious,  and  seem  very  signifi- 
cant. It  is  true  that  in  some  contests  Mars  has  been  the 
victor  rather  than  Apollo  or  Adonis,  and  from  jousts  upon 
the  field  of  war  between  ambitious  suitors  have  doubtless 
been  derived,  in  part  at  least,  the  horns  of  the  deer,  the  ox, 
and  other  animals,  the  mane  of  the  lion,  and  other  features. 
But  a  vast  part  of  the  decoration  of  birds  and  beasts — con- 
sisting mainly  in  the  arrangement  or  coloration  of  the  feath- 
ers and  hair,  or  in  curious  and  apparently  useless  excres- 
cences, and  in  most  instances  much  more  striking  in  the  male 
than  in  the  female — seems  to  be  fairly  accounted  for  as  an 


Form  and  Color  in  Nature.  253 

accumulation  of  minute  differences  which  have  found  favor 
in  the  eyes  of  the  softer  sex.  Even  in  the  human  race  it  is 
said  that  personal  appearance  is  not  wholly  unconsidered  at 
the  mating  season. 

It  is  Darwin's  theory  that  when  peculiarities  arise  late  in 
life  they  are  more  apt  to  be  transmitted  only  to  the  sex  in 
which  they  first  occur.  It  is  well  known  that  many  pecul- 
iarities which  pass  from  sire  to  son  appear  at  a  similar  age  in 
each.  When  the  male  and  female  differ  greatly,  it  is  usually 
the  male  which  departs  most  widely  from  the  type  of  the 
family  to  which  he  belongs ;  he  is  the  most  brilliantly  col- 
ored, and  this  peculiarity  frequently  is  not  greatly  marked 
until  about  the  period  of  maturity.  I  wish  it  were  possible 
for  me  to  give  a  fair  statement  of  the  evidence  which  has 
been  accumulated  upon  this  point,  but  I  must  confine  my- 
self to  a  very  few  cases.  It  is  plain  that  in  innumerable 
species  the  male  exhibits  himself  very  elaborately  to  the 
female  before  he  finds  favor  in  her  eyes,  and  postures  like 
a  veritable  coxcomb.  Of  the  more  curious  cases  among 
birds,  the  most  frequently  noted  is  that  of  the  bower-birds 
of  Australia.  These,  of  which  there  are  three  species,  build 
an  elaborate  bower  upon  the  ground,  or  sometimes  raised 
upon  a  platform  of  sticks.  Their  nests  are  formed  in  the 
trees.  The  bowers  are  places  of  assembly  for  the  sole  pur- 
pose of  courtship.  Both  sexes  assist  in  the  erection,  but  the 
male  is  the  principal  workman.  In  the  fawn-breasted 
species  the  bower  is  nearly  four  feet  in  length  and  eighteen 
inches  in  height.  "  Each  species  decorates  its  bower  in  a 
different  manner.  The  satin  bower-bird  collects  bright-col- 
ored feathers,  bleached  bones,  and  shells ;  '  these  objects  are 
continually  rearranged,  and  carried  around  by  the  birds 
while  at  play.'  The  spotted  bower-bird  lines  its  bower  with 
tall  grasses,  kept  in  place  by  round  stones,  which  are 
brought  from  great  distances,  together  with  shells.  The 
regent  bird  makes  use  of  bleached  shells,  blue,  red,  and 
black  berries,  fresh  leaves,  and  pink  shoots,  the  whole 
showing  a  decided  taste  for  the  beautiful ! " 

Among  other  birds,  "  the  males  sometimes  pay  their  court 
by  dancing,  or  by  fantastic  antics  performed  either  on  the 
ground  or  in  the  air."  The  capercailzie  and  blackcock, 
which  are  both  polygamists,  have  regular  appointed  places, 
where  during  many  weeks  they  congregate  in  numbers  to 
fight  together  and  to  display  their  charms  before  the  females. 
"  The  elder  Brehm  gives  a  curious  account  of  the  Balz,  as 


254  Form  and  Color  in  Nature. 

the  love  dances  and  love  songs  of  the  blackcock  are  called 
in  Germany.  The  bird  utters  almost  continuously  the 
strangest  noises ;  he  holds  his  tail  up  and  spreads  it  out  like 
a  fan,  he  lifts  up  his  head  and  neck  with  all  the  feathers 
erect,  and  stretches  his  wings  from  the  body.  Then  he  takes 
a  few  jumps  in  different  directions,  sometimes  in  a  circle, 
and  presses  the  under  part  of  his  beak  so  hard  against  the 
ground  that  the  chin  feathers  are  rubbed  off.  During  these 
movements  he  beats  his  wings  and  turns  round  and  round. 
The  more  ardent  he  grows  the  more  lively  he  becomes, 
until  at  last  the  bird  appears  like  a  frantic  creature." 

The  modes  of  courtship  among  spiders  as  described  by 
Prof.  Peckham  are  very  varied  and  very  curious.  The 
males  engage  in  fantastic  dances  and  posturings,  exhibiting 
their  peculiarities  of  coloring  or  form  in  the  most  elaborate 
ways,  and  sometimes  many  hours  or  even  days  are  consumed 
in  these  performances.  The  females  seem  attentive  ob- 
servers of  these  antics,  and  it  is  hardly  possible  to  under- 
stand them  excepting  as  efforts  to  excite  a  personal  interest 
through  some  impression  upon  the  sense  of  sight,  which 
would  appear  to  involve  an  appreciation  in  some  sort  of 
color  and  form.  These  efforts  are  usually  successful,  but 
not  always.  In  many  species  the  female  is  much  larger 
and  more  powerful  than  the  male,  and  sometimes  while  he 
is  absorbed  in  his  efforts  to  please  she  will  adroitly  pounce 
upon  him,  and  then  gently  dismember  and  devour  him.  I 
am  well  aware  that  "evil  communications  corrupt  good 
manners,"  and  I  mention  this  habit  with  hesitation.  I 
beg  to  assure  the  young  ladies  before  me  that  I  do  not 
indorse  it,  and  should  greatly  regret  that  any  word  of 
mine  incautiously  spoken  should  lead  to  its  general  adop- 
tion. 

It  is  perhaps  not  too  much  to  say  that  there  is  strong 
probability  in  the  theory  that  great  modifications,  both  in 
color  and  in  form,  may  have  resulted  from  sexual  selection 
following  or  accompanying  a  decided  development  in  the 
color  sense.  But  of  perhaps  equal  importance  (Wallace 
says  of  controlling  importance)  are  mimicry  and  protective 
resemblance. 

Of  course  these  are  only  phases  of  ordinary  natural  selec- 
tion. They  are  found  widely  prevalent  throughout  ani- 
mated nature,  and  present  some  of  the  most  marvelous  in- 
stances of  elaborate  adaptation  which  are  to  be  found. 

It  may  perhaps  be  fairly  assumed  that  butterflies  and 


Form  and  Color  in  Nature.  255 

many  other  insects  originally  acquired  brilliant  colors,  more 
or  less  resembling  those  of  the  flowers  which  they  chiefly 
visited,  as  a  protection  from  the  birds  by  which  they  were 
sought.  And  as  one  part  of  the  evidence  in  this  case  it  is 
noteworthy  that  certain  butterflies  which  have  acquired  a 
nauseous  taste,  and  are  therefore  not  sought  after,  are  very 
marked  in  their  coloring,  and  make  no  effort  to  conceal  them- 
selves. And  as  an  instance  of  protective  mimicry  it  is  to  be 
added  that  the  females  of  certain  other  species  have  sought 
or  found  protection  by  closely  imitating  the  marking  of  these, 
which  differs  greatly  from  the  type  to  which  they  belong. 
This  is  a  form  of  mimicry  of  which  there  are  many  in- 
stances. Then  there  is  the  imitation  of  vegetable  colors 
and  forms  in  many  inhabitants  of  trees  and  smaller  plants, 
in  caterpillars  and  in  larger  creatures  as  well — imitations  so 
close  that  even  the  eye  of  a  practiced  naturalist  is  some- 
times deceived.  And  the  colors  frequently  change  accord- 
ing to  the  season.  But,  most  marvelous  of  all,  numerous 
careful  experiments  made  upon  larvae  by  Mr.  Poulton  and 
others  have  shown  that  their  color  can  actually  be  altered 
from  day  to  day  by  changing  the  colors  surrounding  them. 
These  changes  occur  in  the  individual  creature  experi- 
mented upon,  and  therefore  differ  from  the  cases  of  color 
acquired  through  development,  with  which  mainly  I  have 
been  dealing.  Their  method  of  production  is  one  of  the 
many  items  in  the  study  of  natural  history  which  require  a 
vast  deal  more  investigation  than  they  have  yet  had. 

The  case  of  the  chameleon  is  a  peculiar  one.  This  lizard 
has  long  been  a  synonym  for  variability  in  color,  and  it  is 
only  within  a  few  years  that  it  has  been  discovered  that  it 
has  two  or  more  sets  of  pigment  cells,  so  placed  that  they 
can  be  projected  in  turn  and  at  different  angles  to  the  light, 
and  that  it  is  by  the  use  of  these  that  it  can  totally  change 
its  appearance  at  will. 

In  mammalia  the  colors  are  generally  more  subdued  than 
they  are  in  the  case  of  birds  and  insects,  and  there  is  some 
doubt  whether  their  sense  of  color  is  quite  so  strong.  ^  The 
color  is  frequently  protective,  as  shown,  for  instance,  in  the 
brown  or  tawny  tints  of  those  animals  which  live  upon 
sandy  deserts,  the  tendency  to  stripes  found  among  those 
living  among  reeds,  etc.  These  general  characteristics  are 
modified  in  individual  cases,  as  they  are  among  nearly  all 
species  in  all  families,  by  what  are  called  recognition  mark- 
ings, which  are  supposed  to  have  been  acquired  or  retained 


256  Form  and  Color  in  Nature. 

for  the  purpose  of  keeping  up  family  intercourse  between 
near  relatives  or  friends. 

I  have  said  but  little  of  the  development  of  organic  form 
excepting  incidentally.  To  do  even  scant  justice  to  this 
side  of  the  subject  one  should  have  at  least  an  evening. 
But  Mr.  Kimball's  lecture  to  which  I  have  referred  you 
treats  one  part  of  this  question,  and,  beyond  what  I  have 
already  said,  I  can  only  call  your  attention  generally  to  a 
few  points. 

Upon  the  earth  there  are  four  fields  in  which  organic 
functions  may  be  exercised — in  the  liquids,  in  the  solids,  on 
the  surface  of  the  earth,  and  in  the  air.  Organic  life  seems 
to  have  originated  in  the  liquids,  where,  in  the  beginning, 
substances  having  the  same  specific  gravity  were  borne 
about  freely  by  mechanical  causes,  and  thus  brought  into 
contact  with  the  ingredients  which  they  required  for  nour- 
ishment. What  has  been  already  said,  coupled  with  the  ex- 
ercise of  a  little  imagination,  will  lead  you  to  see  the  natural 
sequences  of  modification  in  this  earliest  medium,  under 
the  influence  of  natural  selection.  The  manner  of  produc- 
tion of  organs  for  locomotion  and  for  grasping  prey  as  well 
as  for  perceiving  it,  together  with  the  simultaneous  special- 
ization of  function  in  the  internal  organization,  do  not  call 
for  any  unusual  exercise  of  the  powers  of  comprehension  so 
far  as  we  can  comprehend  them  at  all.  Nor  does  it  seem 
difficult  to  trace  the  steps  by  which  some  forms  were  in- 
duced to  attach  themselves  to  the  rocks  and  so  live  a  sta- 
tionary life,  and  by  which  others  living  close  to  the  shore, 
and  from  time  to  time  left  bare  by  the  tide  or  the  drying 
up  of  shallow  waters,  should  have  become  accustomed  to  a 
terrestrial  life.  That  some  should  remain  amphibious,  and 
that  some,  both  animal  and  vegetable,  wandering  inland, 
should  become  wholly  acclimated  there,  being  modified  to 
conform  to  altered  circumstances,  we  can  realize.  Bearing 
in  mind  the  extreme  minuteness  of  the  individual  changes, 
and  the  enormous  period  of  time  during  which  they  have 
occurred,  there  seems  little  required  of  our  imagination  ex- 
cepting that  which  is  in  tolerably  close  accord  with  our 
ordinary  experience.  Even  when  we  contrast  the  worms  and 
other  inhabitants  of  the  soil,  or  of  living  or  dead  organic 
matter  with  mammalia,  both  terrestrial  and  aerial — such  as 
the  bats,  flying  squirrels,  and  lemurs,  or  the  reptiles  and 
their  glorified  descendants  the  birds,  or  the  insects — we  are 
no  longer  greatly  troubled  by  their  differences. 


Form  and  Color  in  Nature.  257 

As  for  the  vegetable  kingdom,  little  more  needs  to  be 
said  than  has  already  been  stated.  The  geological  record 
and  the  world  before  us  show  a  systematic  development  of 
certain  forms  from  the  simple  to  the  complex,  the  origin, 
growth,  culmination,  and  decline  of  races,  in  accordance 
with  the  conditions  to  which  they  were  at  the  period  ex- 
posed. A  certain  degree  of  sensation  in  the  vegetable  king- 
dom is  beyond  question,  but  sense-perception  therein  we 
can  hardly  believe  to  exist.  Sensibility  to  touch  and  sensi- 
bility to  light  can  not  be  doubted ;  but  there  is  no  evidence 
indicating  anything  in  the  nature  of  sight,  and  we  can  not 
therefore  predicate  any  reflex  action  in  the  acquirement  of 
color  from  this  source. 

I  do  not  intend  to  poach  upon  the  territory  of  the  lect- 
urer upon  painting,  but  it  is  clearly  within  my  province 
to  touch  at  least  upon  the  material  which  the  painter  has 
to  handle,  and  to  allude  to  its  reaction  upon  the  human 
being.  I  have  not  a  shadow  of  a  doubt  that  the  same  omni- 
present, unfaltering,  and  irresistible  power  —  that  power 
which  is  to  any  force  that  we  can  define,  as  a  universe  to  an 
atom — which  is  responsible  for  the  development  which  we  see 
throughout  the  whole  of  nature  outside  of  the  human  race, 
is  responsible  for  the  development  of  that  race  itself.  I  can 
not  conceive  of  two  conflicting  primary  powers  in  the  uni- 
verse ;  two  Kings  of  Brentford  sitting  on  one  throne. 

It  seems  to  me  that  while  it  is  quite  possible  that  any  one 
of  the  senses  may  be  developed  to  a  higher  degree  in  some 
of  the  lower  animals — as,  for  instance,  the  sense  of  smell  in 
dogs,  the  sense,  whatever  it  may  be,  which  enables  carrier 
pigeons  to  reach  their  homes  in  a  few  hours  after  they 
have  been  carried  several  hundred  miles  in  a  closed  basket 
— there  can  be  no  doubt  that  all  the  senses  combined  have 
so  far  found  their  highest  development  in  man.  Yet  in 
man  we  find  this  development  must  be  characterized  by  de- 
grees, and  in  some  it  has  been  checked  at  an  early  stage. 
Sometimes  this  is  simply  temporary  and  accidental,  some- 
times it  appears  to  be  functional.  It  is  well  known  what 
a  wide  range  of  capacity  exists  in  relation  to  the  appreci- 
ation of  sound.  So  in  a  measure  in  relation  to  form,  much 
more  in  relation  to  color.  We  all  know  those  who  can  not 
discriminate  between  certain  colors  which  to  us  have  the 
widest  distinction.  In  some  instances  the  power  of  per- 
ception in  these  could  doubtless  be  educated.  In  others 
there  seems  a  numbness  of  nerve  which  must  forever  stand 


258  Form  and  Color  in  Nature. 

in  the  way  of  a  response  to  certain  characteristic  vibrations. 
But  in  the  race  as  a  whole,  through  inheritance  of  that 
which  had  been  acquired  by  earlier  types,  through  use  and 
constant  reaction  to  the  multitude  of  impressions  from  sur- 
rounding objects,  there  has  been  developed  an  acute  per- 
ception and  enjoyment  of  color  and  form,  and  there  has 
been  formulated  within  us  a  sense  of  beauty,  including 
grace  and  fitness,  which  has  acquired  the  power  of  that 
which  we  call  an  instinct. 

The  lines  of  the  mountains  and  the  valleys,  the  forms  of 
trees  and  plants  and  every  object  which  opposes  our  view, 
the  motion  of  the  sea  or  of  waving  grain,  the  gradations 
of  the  distance,  the  colors  upon  the  softly  rounded  cheek, 
upon  flowers  and  fruits  and  birds,  and  in  the  evanescent 
glory  of  the  sunset,  appeal  through  the  sense  to  the  heart 
of  man,  and  find  their  heaven  in  his  spiritual  nature.  Stimu- 
lated by  their  influences  as  by  all  that  come  to  him  from 
the  wondrous  universe  in  which  he  is  placed,  palpitating  in 
every  part  with  that  fresh  new  life  which  is  the  life  of  ages, 
should  he  not  aspire  to  something  more  than  is  now  visible 
to  him  ?  Should  he  not  compel  a  future  for  his  race  upon 
this  earth  worthy  of  the  past  which  has  nurtured  him  ? 

"  Can  rules  or  tutors  educate 
The  Semi-God  whom  we  await  1 
He  must  be  musical, 
Tremulous,  impressional, 
Alive  to  gentle  influence 
Of  landscape  and  of  sky, 
And  tender  to  the  spirit-touch 
Of  man's  or  maiden  s  eye : 
But,  to  his  native  center  fast, 
Shall  into  future  fuse  the  past, 
And  the  world's  flowing  fates  in  his  own  mould  recast" 


Form  and  Color  in  Nature.  259 


ABSTRACT  OF  THE  DISCUSSION. 

DR.  ROBERT  G.  ECCLES  : 

The  lecturer  of  the  evening  has  given  us  an  admirable  statement,  in 
the  main,  of  some  of  the  ways  in  which  form  and  color  in  Nature 
have  been  evolved.  He  has  also  touched  briefly  upon  the  psycho- 
logical principles  involved  in  this  process,  in  so  far  as  it  is  related  to 
the  animal  world.  The  result  of  my  own  studies  in  this  field  has  been 
that  I  have  broken  with  the  idea  broached  by  the  lecturer,  that  the 
sensation  of  feeling  was  the  primary  sensation  developed  in  conscious 
organisms.  To  my  mind  it  would  appear  that  taste  would  naturally 
precede  feeling,  since  the  earliest  activities  of  sentient  creatures  are 
devoted  mainly  to  the  search  for  and  appropriation  of  nourishment. 
Even  in  the  most  primitive  micro-organisms  we  observe  a  capacity  for 
distinguishing  between  that  which  is  suitable  for  their  food  and  that 
which  is  not.  The  lecturer  has  well  shown  that  the  various  parts  of 
Nature  are  so  dovetailed  together  that  the  insect  could  not  be  what  it 
is  without  the  flower,  and  vice  versa.  In  illustration  of  this  fact  we 
have  the  statement  that  when  Mr.  Alfred  Russel  Wallace  was  on 
board  a  ship  off  the  coast  of  Madagascar,  a  theretofore  unknown  in- 
sect was  brought  to  him,  which  he  carefully  examined,  and  then  pro- 
ceeded to  sketch  a  flower  which  at  that  time  had  not  been  seen  by  any 
white  man,  but  which  he  declared  must  be  somewhere  on  the  island, 
as  this  insect  was  peculiarly  adapted  for  fertilizing  such  a  flower.  The 
correctness  of  Mr.  Wallace's  views  was  afterward  proved  by  the  dis- 
covery of  a  plant  such  as  he  described.  I  believe  that  an  exact  rela- 
tion, which  may  be  termed  mechanical,  exists  throughout  the  universe, 
so  that  if  we  were  sufficiently  intelligent,  and  could  view  all  the  forces 
operating  in  the  world  from  the  nebula  up,  we  could  predict  the  exist- 
ence of  form  and  color  in  Nature  exactly  as  we  now  perceive  them. 

DR.  LEWIS  G.  JANES: 

I  think  we  must  all  agree  that  Mr.  Potts  has  given  us  a  suggestive 
and  admirable  paper  upon  the  topic  of  the  evening.  I  was  particular- 
ly pleased  with  his  clear  statement  of  the  grounds  for  a  belief  in  a 
Power  transcending  our  modes  of  sense-perception.  In  regard  to  our 
"  five  senses,"  as  they  are  ordinarily  enumerated,  I  think,  while  they 
represent  certain  of  the  more  obvious  distinctions  in  our  modes  of  con- 
tact with  the  external  world,  it  Is  a  mistake  to  assume  a  too  rigid 


260  Form  and  folor  in  Nature. 

limitation  and  differentiation  of  their  activities.  Modern  physiology 
shows  that  the  sense  of  touch,  for  example,  is  not  a  uniform  thing  in 
all  parts  of  the  body— that  certain  superficial  areas  respond  more 
promptly  to  sensations  of  heat,  others  to  cold,  others  to  titillations, 
etc.  The  divisions  between  the  senses  are,  perhaps,  not  so  rigid  as  we 
are  disposed  to  think.  It  is  possible  that  the  sense  of  muscular  con- 
tractility— that  sense  by  means  of  which  we  are  enabled  to  judge  of 
weight  and  resistance— should  be  differentiated  from  the  ordinary 
tactile  sense.  As  to  what  constituted  the  primitive  mode  of  sense- 
activity  I  should,  perhaps,  not  agree  wholly  with  either  the  lecturer  or 
Dr.  Eccles.  I  can  not  think  that  the  developed  sense  of  touch,  as  we 
understand  it,  existed  in  primitive  organisms,  or  a  distinct  sense  of 
taste,  either.  The  mode  of  perception  of  such  organisms  may,  per- 
haps, be  best  regarded  as  a  vague,  undifferentiated  sense  of  feeling, 
which  combined  the  germinal  forms  of  both  taste  and  touch — indeed, 
of  all  the  special  senses.  Binet  regards  sight  as  the  earliest  of  the 
special  senses  to  be  evolved.  If  this  is  the  fact,  it  is  somewhat  re- 
markable that  it  is  still  in  some  respects  the  most  undeveloped  and 
defective.  As  to  the  order  of  their  development,  there  seems  to  me  to 
be  a  wide  range  for  speculation  and  hypothesis.  It  may  be  more  cor- 
rect to  regard  their  evolution  as  in  a  large  degree  simultaneous. 

ME.  POTTS,  in  reply,  said  that  in  the  matter  of  the  senses  he  had 
used  the  term  "  sense  of  touch "  as  being  the  term  of  the  simplest 
character,  intended  to  convey  the  idea  of  a  general  sensibility  to  im- 
pressions which  seemed  to  him  nearer  to  our  sense  of  touch  than  to 
anything  else.  He  did  not  intend  to  imply  that  the  lowest  organisms 
possessed  a  developed  tactile  sense,  such  as  the  higher  mammals  now 
exhibit,  however.  His  paper  had  taken  a  form  quite  different  from 
that  which  he  originally  had  in  mind,  and  he  was  glad  if  it  had  proved 
interesting  and  provocative  of  thought. 


OPTICS  AS  RELATED  TO 
EVOLUTION 


BY 

L.   A.  W.  ALLEMAN,  M.  A.,  M.  D. 


COLLATERAL  READINGS  SUGGESTED: 

Tyndall's  Lectures  on  Light,  and  Light  and  Electricity ;  Stokes's 
Burnett  Lectures  on  Light ;  Articles  Light  and  Optics  in  Encyclopae- 
dia Britannica  and  American  Cyclopaedia ;  Whewell's  History  of  the 
Inductive  Sciences ;  Lommel's  The  Nature  of  Light ;  Thomas's  Re- 
vised Theory  of  Light ;  Brewster's  Optics ;  Bailey's  Paradoxes  of  Vis- 
ion ;  Leibnitz's  Letters  on  Light. 


THE  EVOLUTION  OF  OPTICS. 

BY  L.  A.  W.  ALLEMAN,  M.  A.,  M.  D. 

THE  first  great  landmark  that  the  student  of  the  history 
of  optics  encounters  is  the  name  of  Sir  Isaac  Xewton.  Up 
to  his  time  this  science  had  made  a  slow  and  halting  prog- 
ress. The  meager  knowledge  of  the  ancients — which  con- 
sisted in  the  observed  facts  of  the  rectilinear  propagation  of 
light,  reflection,  and  refraction — had  been  greatly  supple- 
mented by  the  labors  of  Alhazan,  an  Arabian  philosopher,  who 
lived  about  1200  A.  D.  He  wrote  a  valuable  text-book  on 
optics,  and  by  an  anatomical  demonstration  proved  the  ab- 
surdity of  the  popular  theory  of  vision — viz.,  that  a  visual 
ray  was  shot  out  from  the  eye  to  grasp  the  picture  of  exter- 
nal objects.* 

After  Alhazan  follows  a  long  period  of  inactivity.  Then 
came  Roger  Bacon,  Vitellio,  and  Kepler,  each  contributing 
his  share  to  the  fund  of  knowledge,  out  of  which  Xewton 
was  to  elaborate  a  science  of  optics. 

In  1625  Willebrod  Snell  enunciated  the  law  governing 
refraction,  which  Tyndall  terms  the  "  corner-stone  of  optics," 
and  which  connected  together  all  the  measurements  relative 
to  refraction  executed  up  to  his  time.  This  law  was  "  that 
at  any  angle  of  incidence  the  ratio  of  the  sines  of  the  angles 
of  incidence  and  of  refraction  is  constant  for  the  same  two 
media,  but  varies  with  different  media." 

A  new  life  was  now  infused  into  the  work,  and  a  master 
mind  appears  capable  of  using  to  best  advantage  the  ma- 
terial collected  ready  to  his  hand.  The  figure  of  Xewton 
rises  like  a  massive  peak,  supported  and  sustained,  as  says 
Tyndall,  by  the  high  table-land  of  knowledge  which  had 
already  been  attained. 

We  can  not  here  attempt  even  a  brief  review  of  the 
labors  of  Newton,  inviting  as  is  the  subject.  It  is  a  chap- 
ter filled  with  interest,  alike  to  the  student  of  optics  and  of 
human  progress.  It  teaches  the  wonderful  possibilities  of 

*  It  is  an  interesting  fact  that  no  one  before  the  time  of  Aristotle  seems  to 
have  had  the  practical  sagacity  to  ask  why,  if  this  theory  be  true,  we  could  not 
see  in  the  dark. 


264  The  Evolution  of  Optics. 

one  human  mind ;  its  wide-reaching  influence,  the  heritage 
of  intellectual  wealth  which  one  man  may  bequeath  to  all 
who  come  after  him.  The  failures,  too,  are  as  instructive  as 
the  greatest  triumphs.  "What  more  eloquent  protest  against 
the  domination  of  authority  in  scientific  inquiry  could  be 
found  than  is  contained  in  this  chapter  of  the  history  of 
optics?  The  weight  of  Newton's  authority  served  to  up- 
hold almost  to  our  own  day  the  corpuscular  theory  of  light. 
It  blocked  paths  of  investigation  which  led  to  very  treasure- 
houses  of  discovery.  His  masterful  intellect  impressed  with 
equal  force  error  and  truth. 

Newton's  great  contribution  to  the  science  of  optics  was 
his  demonstration  of  the  composite  nature  of  light.  He 
showed  white  light  to  be  a  mixture  of  different  kinds  of 
light  of  varying  refrangibility ;  he  made  his  demonstration 
conclusive  by  analyzing  and  then  recombining  the  constitu- 
ents. To  explain  the  phenomena  of  light,  Newton  con- 
structed the  emission  theory.  Conceiving  light  to  consist 
of  small  particles  shot  out  from  luminous  bodies,  he  ex- 
plained the  phenomena  of  reflection  by  elastic  collision,  and 
refraction  by  an  attractive  force  similar  to  that  of  gravitation. 

This  theory  Newton  developed  with  great  ingenuity,  and 
by  it  many  of  the  phenomena  of  light  were  seemingly  ex- 
plained; where  it  fell  short,  Newton  supported  it  with  a 
weight  of  argument  which  for  a  time  successfully  bore 
down  all  opposition.  But  new  discoveries  were  constantly 
adding  difficulties  to  the  acceptance  of  this  theory.  In  1676 
Bonier  had  proved,  from  observations  of  the  eclipses  of 
Jupiter's  satellites,  that  light  traveled  with  the  velocity  of 
some'  one  hundred  and  ninety  thousand  miles  a  second. 
Now,  it  was  very  difficult  to  conceive  that  matter,  however 
minute,  traveling  with  this  enormous  velocity,  could  be  re- 
ceived without  injury  upon  the  delicate  tissues  of  the  retina. 
A  rival  theory  of  light,  destined  in  time  to  supplant  the 
emission  theory,  had  already  been  proposed.  In  16G4  Hooke 
had  suggested,  as  a  happy  guess,  the  proposition  that  light 
might  consist  of  undulations  in  a  homogeneous  medium,  and 
a  little  later  Huygens  had  developed  this  theory  in  a  very 
masterly  manner,  and  showed  that  it  offered  a  much  more 
rational  explanation  of  light  than  did  the  emission  theory ; 
he  investigated  the  phenomena  of  double  refraction,  first 
observed  by  Bartholinus  in  1669,  and  showed  that  this  could 
be  explained  by  the  wave-theory.  In  fact,  Huygens  seems 
to  have  possessed  a  very  accurate  conception  of  the  nature 


The  Evolution  of  Optics.  265 

of  light,  and  in  his  hands  the  wave-theory  fell  but  little 
short  of  that  positive  demonstration  which  it  was  destined 
to  receive  years  after  from  Young  and  Fresnel. 

Newton  urged  against  the  wave-theory  that,  were  it  true, 
light  should  bend  round  opposing  obstacles,  as  do  the  waves 
of  sound,  and  this  objection  Young  for  the  first  time  satis- 
factorily answered. 

From  a-  careful  study  of  the  phenomena  of  sound,  he  was 
led  to  a  comprehension  of  the  phenomenon  of  the  interfer- 
ence of  light- waves.  He  showed  that  such  a  bending  of  the 
waves  as  Newton  had  suggested  did  take  place,  but  that 
the  light  was  destroyed  by  the  mutual  interference  of  the 
waves.  He  showed  that  light  added  to  light  under  certain 
circumstances  could  produce  darkness,  just  as  sound  added 
to  sound  may  produce  silence. 

There  is,  perhaps,  no  man  of  equal  merit  so  little  known 
and  appreciated  as  Dr.  Thomas  Young,  whose  name  is  so 
intimately  associated  with  the  development  of  the  undula- 
tory  theory  of  light.  In  Music,  Art,  Literature,  and  Sci- 
ence he  was  illustrious.  The  unraveling  of  the  puzzle  of 
the  Egyptian  hieroglyphics  was  an  achievement  upon  which 
any  man  might  have  rested  his  claim  to  distinction,  yet  this 
was  but  one  of  Young's  interests. 

The  wave-theory  of  light  has  proved  a  key  for  the  un- 
locking of  Nature  s  language.  It  has  done  for  the  science 
of  optics  what  Young's  reading  of  the  Rosetti  stone  did  for 
the  meaningless  hieroglyphics;  it  has  made  all  the  phe- 
nomena of  light  intelligible ;  it  has  reduced  a  jumble  of 
curious  facts  to  an  eloquent  demonstration  of  scientific 
truth.  Yet  Young  was  scarcely  known  to  his  contempo- 
raries. It  was  sufficient  to  say,  "  "Who  is  this  man  that  pre- 
tends to  be  greater  than  Newton  ?  "  and  the  upstart  and  his 
work  became  objects  of  popular  contempt.  But  the  theory 
could  not  be  thus  snuffed  out,  although  Young  might  be 
temporarily  deprived  of  his  due  share  of  credit. 

About  this  time  Fresnel,  a  young  French  engineer,  was 
pursuing  investigations  which  led  to  similar  results.  He 
likewise  demonstrated  the  truth  of  the  wave-theory,  and  to 
him  is  usually  assigned  the  honor  of  its  discovery,  but,  be  it 
said  to  his  credit,  he  fully  acknowledged  Young's  claim  to 
priority. 

The  labors  of  Young  and  of  Fresnel  served  to  establish  the 
wave-theory  of  light,  than  which  few  more  important  hy- 
potheses have  ever  been  enunciated.  It  embraces  at  once 
19 


266  The  Evolution  of  Optics. 

conceptions  of  such  astounding  magnitude  and  minuteness 
that  the  mind  is  utterly  incapable  of  representing  to  itself 
many  of  the  quantities  with  which  this  theory  has  to  deal. 
Yet  the  difficulties  which  the  theory  presents  to  our  under- 
standing are  no  valid  arguments  against  its  acceptance,  and 
by  that  crucial  test  of  all  physical  theories — its  ability  to 
explain  all  the  known  phenomena,  and  even  to  predict  re- 
sults which  must  follow  in  given  cases — the  wave-theory  of 
light  has  established  its  claim  to  our  acceptance  With  the 
final  triumph  of  this  hypothesis  we  bring  the  science  of 
optics  to  a  comparatively  recent  date,  but  we  have  omitted 
many  considerations  which  belong  properly  to  such  a  record, 
There  have  grown  out  from  the  science  of  optics,  by  a  natu- 
ral process  of  differentiation,  new  sciences,  made  possible  by 
its  achievements,  which  rival  the  parent  in  interest  and  im- 
portance. The  employment  of  lenses  in  the  correction  of 
visual  defects,  and  the  combination  of  lenses  and  mirrors  for 
assisting  the  eye  to  pry  into  the  secrets  of  the  sublimely  great 
and  the  equally  marvelous  minute,  have  played  a  mighty  role 
in  the  development  of  man's  intellect.  Try  to  conceive,  if 
you  can,  the  history  of  scientific  thought  without  the  reve- 
lations of  the  microscope  and  telescope. 

Again,  spectrum  analysis  furnishes  one  of  the  most  beau- 
tiful examples  of  the  interdependence  of  kindred  sciences. 
Astronomy  had  elaborated  a  theory  containing  many  propo- 
sitions beyond  all  hope  of  demonstration,  when  its  sister 
science  steps  in  and  enables  us  to  subject  the  most  distant 
luminaries  to  a  chemical  analysis  much  as  we  would  a 
specimen  brought  to  us  in  the  laboratory  We  can  read  in 
the  heavens  the  history  of  our  own  system,  we  can  find 
worlds  in  various  stages  of  evolution,  and  the  theory  of  the 
astronomer  receives  the  confirmation  of  the  physicist. 

It  must  not  be  inferred  that  in  the  history  of  optics 
proper  the  record  is  closed,  for  it  is  only  with  the  wave- 
theory  that  the  real  history  of  optics  may  be  said  to  begin. 

The  wave- theory  introduces  order  and  harmony  into  the 
phenomena  of  light.  It  shows  that  what  was  once  consid- 
ered light  is  but  that  very  little  part  which  the  eye  is 
capable  of  appreciating,  of  a  continuous  series  of  waves  ex- 
tending from  the  invisible  so-called  chemical  rays  to  those 
which  our  senses  interpret  as  heat.  Having  thus  far  tri- 
umphed, it  now  proposes  to  occupy  new  territory,  to  bring 
light  and  electricity  under  one  common  governance,  and 
in  this  land  of  promise,  in  the  field  of  electro-magnetic 


The  Evolution  of  Optics.  267 

phenomena,  no  doubt  lie  some  of  the  most  important 
future  discoveries,  some  of  the  greatest  achievements  of  the 
science  of  optics. 

In  our  consideration  of  physiological  optics  we  shall  not 
formulate  any  theories  or  attempt  any  explanation  of  the 
marvelous  transformation  of  ethereal  vibrations  into  light- 
sensations.  Such  an  explanation  belongs  rather  within  the 
field  of  physiological  psychology.  "We  will  first  take  up  and 
briefly  describe  that  organ  in  which  the  first  step  of  this 
wonderful  metamorphosis  is  accomplished  and  by  means 
of  which  the  ether  wave-energy  is  converted  into  nerve 
activity. 

In  these  days  of  amateur  photography  the  comparison  of 
the  eye  to  a  photographic  camera  will  enable  almost  every 
one  to  form  a  clear  conception  of  its  structure.  A  camera 
consists  essentially  of  a  box  lined  within  with  some  dark 
material,  having  on  one  side  an  opening  into  which  are 
fitted  a  series  of  lenses  so  arranged  as  to  throw  an  image  of 
the  desired  object  upon  a  sensitized  plate,  which  is  to  receive 
the  picture,  situated  at  the  opposite  side  from  the  lenses.  A 
diaphragm  or  shutter  to  regulate  the  amount  of  light  ad- 
mitted to  the  camera  and  some  arrangement  for  adjusting 
its  focus  for  both  near  and  distant  objects  is  also  present. 
Now,  this  is  practically  the  same  mechanism  that  we  find  in 
the  eye.  Corresponding  to  the  box,  we  have  in  the  eye  a 
strong  fibrous  coat,  the  sclerotic,  commonly  called  the  white 
of  the  eye,  in  the  front  of  which  is  situated  a  transparent 
portion  known  as  the  cornea.  Back  of  this  cornea  hangs  a 
curtain,  the  iris,  with  a  small  circular  opening  in  the  center, 
the  pupil,  which  diminishes  or  increases  automatically  in 
response  to  more  or  less  light-stimulation.  This  arrange- 
ment is  approximated  in  some  of  the  most  improved  pho- 
tographic cameras  by  what  is  known  as  an  iris  diaphragm ; 
but  this  has  not  yet  been  sufficiently  perfected  to  work 
automatically.  Back  of  the  iris  is  a  lens  of  such  power  that 
in  a  normal  eye  rays  of  light  are  focused  upon  the  back- 
ground of  the  eye,  where  is  situated  that  structure  which 
corresponds  to  the  sensitized  plate.  This  is  known  as  the 
retina,  which  we  may  consider  for  the  present  to  consist  of 
the  delicate  terminal  filaments  of  the  optic  nerve  that,  curi- 
ously enough,  spreads  itself  out  on  the  front  of  the  retina 
and  turns  its  sensitive  tips  away  from  the  light  back  into 
the  retina.  A  layer  of  pigment  gives  the  eye  its  black  lin- 
ing, and  the  greater  part  of  the  interior  is  occupied  by  a 


268  The  Evolution  of  Optics. 

semi-fluid  mass,  the  vitreous  humor.  Now  we  have  all  the 
apparatus  necessary  for  giving  us  distinct  pictures  of  dis- 
tant objects. 

Let  us  now  look  at  the  important  mechanism  by  which 
the  eye  is  enabled  to  adjust  its  focus  to  both  distant  and 


FIG.  1.— Horizontal  section  of  the  right  eye  (Landois).  a,  cornea ;  6,  conjunctiva; 
c,  sclerotic;  d,  anterior  chamber  containing  the  aqueous  humor;  e,  iris;  //', 
pupil;  gr,  posterior  chamber;  I,  Petit's  canal;  j,  ciliary  muscle ;  k,  corne-oscle- 
ral  limit ;  i,  canal  of  Schlemm  ;  m,  choroid;  n,  retina;  o,  vitreous  humor; 
No,  optic  nerve;  q,  nerve-sheaths;  p,  nerve- fibers;  Ic,  lamina  cribrosa.  The 
line  OA  indicates  the  optic  axis;  Sr,  the  axis  of  vision;  r,  the  position  of  the 
f  ovea  centralis. 

near  objects.  For  our  purpose  we  may  consider  the  diop- 
tric apparatus  of  the  eye  as  constituting  one  single  lens, 
although  in  reality  the  cornea,  lens,  and  humors  of  the  eye 
each  contribute  their  share  to  the  result.  We  assume  rays 
of  light  coming  from  a  distance — that  is,  from  more  than 
twenty  feet — to  be  parallel,  and  in  a  normal  eye  to  be  suffi- 
ciently refracted  to  form  a  clear  image  of  the  desired  ob- 
ject upon  the  retina. 

Now,  it  is  manifestly  impossible  that  without  some  adjust- 
ment this  same  apparatus  should  give  us  clear  images  of 
nearer  objects,  because  the  rays  of  light  from  a  nearer  ob- 
ject are  more  divergent  and  require  a  stronger  refracting 


The  Evolution  of  Optics.  269 

agent  to  focus  them.  To  accomplish  this  purpose  the  eye 
possesses  the  power  of  accommodation  corresponding  to  the 
focusing  apparatus  of  our  camera.  This  is  effected  by 
means  of  the  crystalline  lens,  which  hangs  suspended,  as  we 
have  seen,  behind  the  iris,  and  upon  which  the  suspensory 
ligament  exercises  a  constant  traction  when  the  eye  is  in  a 
state  of  rest.  At  the  attachment  of  this  suspensory  liga- 
ment is  situated  a  muscle  which  surrounds  the  lens.  When 
we  wish  to  adjust  the  eye  for  near  objects  this  muscle  con- 
tracts, and,  as  a  necessary  result,  the  traction  exercised  upon 
the  suspensory  ligament  of  the  lens  is  relieved,  and  by  its 
own  resiliency  the  lens  assumes  a  more  convex  shape,  just 
as  a  rubber  ball  upon  which  you  have  been  pulling  if  re- 
leased springs  back  to  its  original  form  (see  Fig.  2).  The 
convexity  of  the  lens  is  thus  increased,  and  consequently  its 
refracting  power,  so  that  the  diverging  rays  of  light  are 
now  focused  upon  the  retina,  the  accom- 
modation effort  being  exactly  propor- 
tioned to  the  nearness  of  the  object  upon 
which  the  eye  is  directed. 

This  in  its  simplest  form  is  the  mech- 
anism of  accommodation. 

The  eye  which  we  have  thus  far  con- 
sidered is  the  normal  or  ideally  perfect 
eye.  But,  as  met  with  in  actual  experi- 
ence, eyes  vary  widely  from  this  stand- 
ard. The  most  common  defect  is  that 
known  as  hypermetropia,  or  far  sight, 
the  latter  term  being  somewhat  mislead- 
ing, because  such  eyes  do  not  always 
possess  perfect  vision  at  long  range,  nor 
is  their  vision  for  near  objects  necessa- 
rily imperfect.  A  far-sighted  eye  is 
simply  a  flattened  eye  (Fig.  3),  and  the 
retina  is  situated  in  front  of  that  point 
to  which  the  rays  of  light  are  converged 
when  in  a  state  of  rest.  This  defect  is  most  usually  com- 
pensated by  a  constant  accommodation  effort  of  the  focusing 
muscle  and  the  individual  is  not  conscious  of  any  visual 
defect. 

Myopia,  or  near  sight  (Fig.  3),  is  that  condition  in  which 
the  length  of  the  eye  is  too  great  and  the  rays  of  light  are 
focused  in  front  of  the  retina.  With  such  an  eye  it  is  im- 
possible to  obtain  a  clear  picture  of  distant  objects,  and  the 


270 


The  Evolution  of  Optics. 


near-sight. 


eye,  according  to  the  degree  of  myopia,  is  normally  adapted 
for  objects  more  or  less  near. 

Still  another  defect  more  annoying  than  either  of  the 
foregoing  is  caused  by  the  fact  that  the  curvature  of  the 
anterior  surface  of  the  eye  is  not 
symmetrical  —  that  is,  should  we 
make  a  section  of  the  eye  in  the 
horizontal  and  again  in  the  verti- 
cal meridian,  we  would  find  that 
one  segment  was  longer  than  the 
other,  because  the  cornea  is  more 
sharply  curved  in  one  direction 
than  in  the  other.  As  a  necessary 
result,  the  light  entering  the  eye 
in  these  different  meridians  can 
not  unite  in  one  f  ocus  —  that  is,  it 
could  no  longer  be  a  point,  but  a 
line  of  light  —  and  from  this  fact 
the  defect  is  called  astigmatism, 
the  name  signifying  without  a  point.  The  annoying  visual 
disturbance  which  this  defect  causes  is  very  frequently  over- 
come by  an  unequal  contraction  of  the  focusing  muscle, 
making  the  lens  cylindrical  to  compensate  for  the  corneal 
defect  ;  but  when  not  so  corrected  it  gives  rise  to  very  curi- 
ous visual  impressions.  For  example,  it  is  sometimes  im- 
possible for  such  a  person  to  see  the  hands  of  a  clock  save 
when  they  are  turned  in  one  direction,  being  able  only  to 
tell  the  time,  say,  at  twelve  and  six  o'clock.  Astigmatism 
may  occur  in  connection  with  either  far  or  near  sight,  or 
both  defects  may  be  combined  in  the  same  eye,  one  meridian 
being  short-sighted,  the  other  long-sighted. 

But  such  defects  of  form  are  by  no  means  the  only  ones 
which  the  eye  presents  when  considered  as  an  optical  in- 
strument. Although  the  visual  field  of  the  human  eye  is 
very  large,  that  portion  of  the  sensitized  plate  capable  of 
appreciating  clearly  defined  images  is  very  small,  because 
one  portion  of  the  retina  has  become  more  highly  special- 
ized than  the  remainder;  this  spot  is  called  the  macula 
lutea,  and  it  is  only  in  the  comparatively  restricted  portion 
of  the  field  which  this  macula  commands  that  the  most  per- 
fect visual  acuity  is  reached.  It  is  consequently  necessary, 
when  carefully  examining  any  object,  that  the  eye  should  be 
directed  in  turn  to  each  point  which  we  wish  to  observe. 
This  restless  motion  of  the  eye  gives  what  we  know  as  ex- 


The  Evolution  of  Optics.  271 

pression,  and  it  is  this  movement,  this  constant  attention 
to  the  different  parts  of  the  picture,  which  we  miss  in  blind 
or  very  defective  eyes.  Again,  as  the  terminal  filaments  of 
the  optic  nerve  are  alone  sensitive  to  light,  it  follows  that 
at  the  point  where  the  nerve  enters  the  eye  and  spreads  out 
upon  the  retina  there  is  a  portion  of  the  background  of  the 
eye  which  is  entirely  blind,  and  you  have  no  doubt  all  dem- 
onstrated the  existence  of  this  blind  spot  for  yourselves  by 
that  simple  and  familiar  experiment  made  with  a  dot  and  a 
cross  upon  a  piece  of  white  paper. 

Since  light  of  varying  wave-lengths  is  unequally  bent  in 
passing  through  a  refracting  substance,  it  follows  that  light 
having  passed  through  a  lens  will  not  be  united  in  a  single 
focus,  but,  we  may  say  approximately,  in  different  foci,  cor- 
responding to  the  different  colors;  this  gives  us  what  is 
known  as  chromatic  aberration.  It  was  once  supposed  that 
the  eye  was  free  from  this  defect.  This,  however,  is  not 
the  case,  as  may  be  easily  demonstrated ;  but  it  is  an  inter- 
esting fact  that  the  supposed  freedom  of  the  eye  from  this 
defect  led  to  its  imitation  in  the  manufacture  of  lenses. 
Lenses  of  different  materials  were  thus  combined,  and  with 
the  most  happy  effect,  as  is  witnessed  by  our  present  highly 
perfected  achromatic  objectives. 

From  any  point  of  view  save  that  of  evolutionists  these 
defects  are  inexplicable.  What  useful  purpose  can  be  served 
by  the  facts  that  but  one  little  spot  on  the  retina  possesses 
accurate  vision,  that  one  portion  of  the  field  is  entirely 
blind,  that  the  retinal  vessels  cast  shadows  upon  the  retina, 
which,  if  we  were  conscious  of  them,  would  give  us  the  im- 
pressions of  viewing  the  world  through  the  branches  of  a 
forest  ?  Why  should  not  the  optical  apparatus  be  corrected 
for  color  and  for  form  ?  It  signifies  but  little  that  these 
defects  are  compensated  in  one  way  or  another ;  there  is  no 
excuse  for  their  existence  unless  we  look  at  the  eye  as  a 
nerve  of  common  sensation  which  has  been  developed  and 
modified  through  various  steps  of  evolution,  and  which, 
from  mere  light-perception,  has  come  by  gradual  stages  to 
its  present  visual  perfection.  When  we  understand  this,  our 
criticisms  are  turned  to  admiration,  and  we  look  upon  the 
eye  as  one  of  the  most  wonderful,  one  of  the  most  instruct- 
ive, of  all  Nature's  works.  Darwin  has  well  said  that  "  it 
seemed  quite  inconceivable  that  such  an  organ  could  be  de- 
veloped ;  but,"  he  continues,  "  reason  tells  me  that  if  nu- 
merous gradations  from  an  imperfect  and  simple  eye  to  one 


272  The  Evolution  of  Optics. 

perfect  and  complex — each  grade  being  useful  to  its  pos- 
sessor— can  be  shown  to  exist,  as  is  certainly  the  case ;  if, 
further,  the  eye  ever  slightly  varies  and  the  variations  are 
inherited,  as  is  likewise  certainly  the  case,  and  if  such  varia- 
tions should  ever  be  useful  to  any  animal  under  changing 
conditions  of  life,  then  the  difficulty  of  believing  that  a  per- 
fect and  complex  eye  could  be  formed  by  natural  selection, 
though  insuperable  by  our  imagination,  can  not  be  consid- 
ered real."  It  is  impossible,  as  Mr.  Darwin  has  said,  in 
studying  the  gradation  through  which  any  organ  has  passed, 
to  look  exclusively  to  its  lineal  progenitors ;  we  must  look 
to  the  collateral  descendants  which  may  have  preserved  the 
organ  in  its  rudimentary  form,  and  pick  up,  whenever  we 
can,  any  instance  which  will  throw  light  on  its  manner  of 
evolution. 

In  our  consideration  of  this  subject  one  fundamental  fact 
should  be  kept  clearly  in  mind :  the  development  of  the 
visual  organs  is  always  dependent  upon  and  correlated  with 
the  power  of  locomotion  possessed  by  the  animal.  The 
greater  its  extent  and  rapidity  in  any  given  case,  the  greater, 
consequently,  is  the  advantage  of  accurate  vision ;  obstacles 
are  more  easily  seen,  enemies  discovered  and  avoided ;  while  in 
the  pursuit  of  its  prey,  an  animal  which  possessed  at  the  same 
time  superior  powers  of  locomotion  and  more  accurate  vision 
than  its  fellows  would  of  necessity  triumph  over  them  and 
be  victorious  in  the  struggle  for  existence.  If  functional 
activity  leads  to  modification,  what  more  powerful  stimulus 
can  we  imagine  than  that  which  has  been  operative  during 
countless  ages  f.or  the  development  of  the  eye,  always  sec- 
onded by  the  most  vigorous  application  of  the  law  of  natu- 
ral selection? 

We  find  that  the  first  suggestions  of  a  visual  organ  make 
their  appearance  very  low  in  the  scale  of  animal  life.  It 
has  been  suggested  by  Mr.  Spencer  that  in  animals  whose 
cutaneous  surface  is  everywhere  sensitive  to  light  the  de- 
velopment of  specialized  nerves  for  light-perception  has  been 
determined  in  those  parts  of  the  animal  which  were  exposed 
to  the  greatest  contrasts  of  light  and  shade.  Should  some 
opaque  particles  of  pigment  deposited  in  certain  parts  of 
the  skin,  suggests  Sir  John  Lubbock,  arrest  and  absorb  light, 
its  effect  would  be  intensified ;  and  should  there  be  a  depres- 
sion in  the  skin  at  this  point,  these  cells  would  be  better  pro- 
tected. Epithelial  cells  frequently  secrete  more  or  less  mat- 
ter, which,  forming  a  ball,  would  act  as  a  condensing-lens, 


The  Evolution  of  Optics.  273 

and  the  cells  immediately  subjacent  might  develop  into 
special  nerve-tissues ;  and  to  show  that  this  is  not  imagina- 
tive he  cites  eyes  representing  these  various  types,  and  shows 
that  the  eye  of  a  snail,  in  its  development,  passes  through 
these  very  stages. 

The  most  rudimentary  form  of  eye  with  which  we  are 
acquainted  is  such  as  that  found  in  the  Medusa,  which  we 
can  scarcely  term  an  eye  at  all,  but  simply  a  nerve,  which 
responds  very  slowly,  as  shown  by  Mr.  Romanes,  to  light- 
stimulation  by  a  contraction  of  the  body.  Such  an  optical 
apparatus  would  seem  to  be  of  very  little  utility  to  its  pos- 
sessor ;  yet  the  simple  eye-speck  of  the  oyster,  which  is  su- 
perior to  this  only  in  giving  a  quick  response  to  light-stimu- 
lus, we  can  readily  understand  to  be  of  great  value,  for  the 
oyster  is  seen  to  close  its  shell,  when  the  shadow  of  an  ap- 
proaching object  falls  upon  it,  long  before  the  disturbance 
of  the  Avater,  through  the  sense  of  feeling  alone,  could  give 
it  warning  of  the  danger. 

Over  such  a  simple  eye-speck  an  advantage  would  be 
gained  by  the  thickening  of  the  covering  epidermal  scales, 
which  would  tend  to  concentrate  the  light  upon  the  ex- 
posed nerve,  thus  obtaining  a  greater  intensity  of  stimula- 
tion. These  stages  we  have  seen  actually  occurring  in  the 
lower  animal  forms,  and  embryology  tells  us  that,  in  our 
own  eyes,  the  crystalline  lens  is  formed  by  such  a  folding  in 
•of  the  epitheliaHayer. 

From  a  simple  light-receiving  organ  it  is  but  a  short  step 
to  one  in  which  the  lens  serves  not  merely  to  concentrate 
the  rays  of  light  upon  terminations  of  the  optic  nerve,  but 
likewise  to  form  some  rude  image  of  external  objects.  Such 
a  visual  organ  would  no  doubt  tend  to  greatly  modify  the 
habits  of  any  animal  in  which  it  was  developed.  The  in- 
creased facilities  for  finding  and  selecting  food  would  pow- 
erfully modify  its  habits.  It  could  with  greater  safety  in- 
crease the  latitude  of  its  excursions,  and  this  change  in 
environment  would  tend  to  still  further  modification.  All 
these  causes  would  no  doubt  exert  a  powerful  influence 
upon  the  development  of  the  visual  organ. 

In  endeavoring  to  trace  the  development  of  the  eye  through 
its  various  stages  of  evolution  one  very  important  fact  is  met 
— viz.,  the  eye,  in  its  progress  toward  perfection,  has  not 
always  traveled  in  the  same  lines.  Under  varying  stimuli 
different  reactions  have  taken  place,  and  we  find  two  well- 
marked  types  of  the  visual  organ — one,  the  invertebrate  eye, 


274  The  Evolution  of  Optics. 

which  has  probably  arisen,  as  we  have  already  said,  as  a 
modification  of  dermal  structures  and  a  nerve  of  common 
sensation,  and  in  which  the  nerve  is  distributed  at  the  back 
of  the  retina  and  the  terminal  filaments  extend  forward 
toward  the  light ;  the  other,  the  vertebrate  eye,  which  in 
its  development  is  a  portion  of  the  brain,  and  in  which  the 
nerve  is  distributed  upon  the  anterior  surface  of  the  retina 
and  the  tips  are  turned  down  into  the  substance  of  the  retina 
and  away  from  the  light.  Many  explanations  of  this  curious 
phenomenon  have  been  attempted,  but  none  are  altogether 
satisfactory.  It  has  been  suggested  that  the  primitive  ver- 
tebrate must  have  been  a  transparent  animal,  and 'that  the 
eye  or  eyes  were  situated  inside  the  brain,  as  in  the  ascidian 
tadpole,  which  would  explain  the  fact  that  the  light-receiv- 
ing portion  of  the  eye  is,  in  its  development,  an  offshoot  of 
the  brain.  This  whole  subject  is  extremely  interesting,  but 
it  has  not  been  as  fully  and  definitely  elaborated  and  ex- 
plained as  we  could  wish. 

Among  the  invertebrates  the  greatest  variety  of  optical 
apparatus  is  met  with.  In  most  lower  forms  the  eye-speck 
is  found  with  or  without  a  condensing  lens,  and  vision 
probably  amounts  to  little  more  than  ability  to  differentiate 
between  different  degrees  of  illumination.  The  usual  type 
of  eye  is  the  one  found  on  the  invertebrate  plan,  as  we  have 
already  mentioned ;  but  to  this  the  eyes  of  Pecten  and  a  few 
other  classes  form  exceptions,  for  in  them  the  optic-nerve 
terminals  are  turned  away  from  the  light  as  in  the  verte- 
brate eye.  The  nerve  does  not,  however,  pierce  the  retina 
from  behind,  as  in  the  latter  type,  but  bends  over  from  the 
side.  In  certain  Southern  snails  we  find  an  eye  still  more 
closely  resembling  the  eyes  of  the  vertebrata,  for  not  only 
is  the  distribution  of  the  retinal  elements  the  same,  but  the 
nerve  also  enters  from  behind,  as  in  the  vertebrate  eye.  But 
this  is  seen  to  be  only  an  arriving  at  the  same  goal  by  differ- 
ent routes  and  not  an  evidence  of  relation,  for  the  eye  in  its 
development  is  a  dermal  structure,  a  true  invertebrate  eye. 

We  may  take  the  eyes  of  insects  as  typical  examples  of 
the  invertebrate  eye,  for  in  this  class  the  eyes  have  obtained 
great  perfection.  The  eyes  of  insects  are  of  two  kinds — the 
simple  eye  or  ocellus,  and  the  compound  eye.  Ocelli  differ 
somewhat  in  structure,  but  consist  essentially  of  a  corneal 
lens,  either  spherical  or  cylindrical,  a  mass  of  transparent 
cells,  a  retina,  optic  nerve,  and  pigment.  This  eye  sees  as 
does  the  human  eye — that  is,  by  a  reversed  image — but  is  very 


The  Evolution  of  Optics. 


275 


near-sighted  and  possesses  at  best  but  imperfect  vision.  The 
compound  eye  (Fig.  4)  consists  of  a  number  of  tubes — some- 
times as  many  as  twenty- five  thousand — arranged  side  by  side, 
with  such  a  disposition  of  the 
lenses,  pigment,  etc.,  that 
only  those  rays  of  light  fall- 
ing on  the  axis  of  the  tube 
may  reach  the  retina.  (This 
is  represented  dlagrammati- 
cally  in  Fig.  4  a.)  There  has 
been  much  discussion  as  to 
the  method  in  which  vision 
is  accomplished  in  these 


eyes,  but  it  seems  most  probable  that,  as  suggested  by  Miill- 
er,  the  vision  of  the  compound  eye  is  a  mosaic,  each  segment 
of  which  corresponds  to  the  field  directly  in  line  with  the 
axis  of  each  tube.  That  each  division  of  the  compound  eye 
produces  its  own  image  seems  highly  improbable  from  the 
fact  that  in  many  compound  eyes  the  image  would  not  fall 
on  the  retina,  and  no  arrangement  for  accommodation  seems 
to  be  present,  while  the  nature  of  the  crystalline  cones  and 
the  retina  itself  is  such,  in  many  cases,  as  to  preclude  the 
possibility  of  a  clear  image.  It  seems  probable  that  Miill- 
er's  theory  is  correct,  that  the  compound  eyes  produce  single 
upright  images,  and  that  the  ocelli,  when  present  with  the 
compound  eye,  as  is  sometimes  the  case,  are  useful  for  vision 
at  very  near  range. 

A  brief  description  of  the  eyes  of  spiders  may  not  be  un- 
interesting in  this  connection,  as  a  typical  instance  of  the 
manner  in  which  the  location  of  the  eyes  has  been  deter- 
mined by  the  structure  and  habits  of  their  possessors.  "  Spi- 
ders which  hide  in  tubes  or  lurk  in  obscure  retreats,  from 
which  they  only  emerge  to  seize  a  passing  prey,  have  their 
eyes  aggregated  in  a  close  group  in  the  middle  of  the  fore- 


276  The  Evolution  of  Optics. 

head,  as  in  the  bird  spider.  The  spiders  which  inhabit  short 
tubes,  terminated  by  a  large  web  exposed  to  the  open  air, 
have  eyes  separated  and  more  spread  upon  the  front  of  the 
cephalo-thorax.  Those  spiders  which  rest  in  the  center  of 
a  fine  web,  which  they  frequently  traverse,  have  the  eyes 
supported  on  slight  prominences  which  permit  a  greater  di- 
vergence of  their  axes;  this  structure  is  well  marked  in 
those  species  which  lie  in  ambuscade  in  flowers.  Lastly,  the 
spiders  called  errantes,  or  wanderers,  have  their  eyes  still 
more  scattered,  the  lateral  ones  being  placed  at  the  margin 
of  the  cephalo-thorax."  * 

The  eyes  of  vertebrates  differ  from  those  we  have  just 
been  considering  both  in  their  type  and  method  of  develop- 
ment. All  vertebrate  eyes  are  not  identical  in  structure, 
but  for  the  most  part  we  find  the  same  essential  features  as 
in  the  human  eye,  which  we  have  already  considered,  while 
each  class  presents  some  slight  modifications  which  are 
usually  intelligible  from  the  habits  of  life  of  the  animal. 

The  eyes  of  fishes 
(Fig.  5),  for  example, 
are  flattened  in  their 
anterior  segment,  thus 
diminishing  liability  to 
injury  during  the  rap- 
id movements  of  the 
fish.  The  eyes  are  set 
in  bony  sockets,  and 
the  sclerotic  is  still 
further  fortified  by  os- 
seous or  cartilaginous 
plates.  In  the  water, 
vision  at  great  dis- 
tances is  impracticable, 
and  we  find  that  the  eyes  of  fishes  and  most  aquatic  ani- 
mals are  so  formed  as  to  adapt  them  for  vision  at  compara- 
tively short  range.  The  flat  cornea  is  compensated  by  a 
globular  lens,  making  the  animal  naturally  near-sighted. 
The  pupil  is  usually  round,  but  in  some  flat  fishes  which 
grovel  at  the  bottom  of  the  water  there  is  a  peculiar  fringed 
process  from  the  margin  of  the  iris  which  can  be  drawn  up 
or  let  down  at  will,  thus  regulating  the  amount  of  light  re- 
ceived. The  lachrymal  gland  is  of  course  absent,  being  un- 
necessary in  aquatic  animals ;  but  in  some  fishes — as,  for  ex- 

*  Owen. 


Tlie  Evolution  of  Optics.  277 

ample,  sharks — a  nictitating  membrane  or  third  eyelid  is 
developed.  This  is  a  thin  membrane  situated  at  the  inner 
angle  of  the  eye,  and  which  can  be  drawn  across  the  globe 
in  a  direction  at  right  angles  to  the  external  lids.  We  find 
in  some  species  of  reptiles  a  muscle  by  which  the  eye  is 
retracted  at  will,  being  prominent  when  in  the  air,  and  with- 
drawn from  danger  when  in  the  water. 

The  eye  of  the  lizard  is  peculiar  in  that  it  possesses  a 
macula,  and  the  two  eyes  have  an  independent  movement. 
Many  reptiles  present  nic- 
titating membranes,  and 
those  living  upon  land  a 
lachrymal  apparatus. 

The  eyes  of  birds  (Fig. 
6)  are  conspicuous  for 
their  large  size  and  prom- 
inence, as  we  would  nat- 
urally expect  from  the 
habits  of  the  animal.  In 
some  aquatic  species  we 
find  a  flat  cornea,  but,  as 
a  rule,  the  anterior  seg- 
ment of  the  eye  is  promi- 
nent and  the  cornea  con-  FIG.  6. 
vex. 

The  coats  of  the  eye  are  supplemented  by  a  layer  of  osse- 
ous plates,  which  are  situated  in  the  sclera ;  there  also  ex- 
ists a  peculiar  muscular  arrangement  which  makes  traction 
upon  these  scleral  plates,  compressing  the  globe  and  render- 
ing prominent  the  cornea,  thus  quickly  adapting  the  eye  for 
near  vision.  It  is  alleged  that  in  birds  the  act  of  accommo- 
dation is  largely  dependent  upon  this  bulging  forward  of 
the  anterior  segment  of  the  eye  to  produce  near  vision,  and 
it  is  possible  that  the  pecten,  which  is  a  vascular  loop  ex- 
tending into  the  interior  of  the  eye,  is  of  service  in  keep- 
ing up  the  intra-ocular  tension  during  such  extreme  changes 
in  form. 

In  mammals  we  never  find  any  development  of  bone  in 
the  sclerotic,  and  the  eyes  are  usually  well  protected  by  a 
bony  orbit.  In  animals  of  nocturnal  habits  the  cornea  is 
proportionately  larger  and  more  convex ;  the  lens  is  likewise 
more  globular,  thus  adapting  the  eye  for  vision  at  nearer 
range.  In  aquatic  mammals  the  eyes  more  nearly  resemble 
those  of  fishes  in  form,  the  cornea  being  flat  and  the  lens 


278  The  Evolution  of  Optics. 

globular.  In  timid  animals,  and  in  those  who  defend  them- 
selves by  kicking,  we  find  the  eyes  lateral  and  prominent, 
which  enables  the  animal  to  watch  for  the  approach  of  a 
possible  enemy  from  behind.  The  retractor  muscle  of  the 
eyeball  is  present  in  all  mammals  up  to  the  Quadrumana. 
In  the  catarrhine  Quadrumana  and  in  man  we  have  that 
specialization  in  the  function  of  the  retina  which  gives  us 
what  we  know  as  the  macula ;  this  pit  is  not  developed  in 
the  embryo,  and  is  inconspicuous  in  childhood. 

In  some  of  the  mammalia,  especially  in  the  carnivora, 
there  is  on  the  inner  surface  of  the  choroid  a  patch  of 
brilliant  pigment  of  metallic  luster  called  the  tapitum. 
This  assists  the  vision  of  the  animal  in  a  feeble  light  by 
reflecting  forward  the  rays  of  light  as  from  a  mirror. 

"We  find  in  the  eye  many  interesting  examples  of  retro- 
gression and  atrophy  from  disuse.  Very  frequently,  when 
an  animal  is  freely  moving  in  its  larval  state,  the  eyes  which 
it  then  possesses  are  lost  later  on  with  its  power  of  locomo- 
tion, as,  for  example,  in  the  ascidian.  The  rudimentary 
character  of  the  eyes  of  animals  living  in  dark  caverns  is 
well  known.  In  those  forms  living  at  a  great  depth  beneath 
the  surface  of  the  water,  where  little  light  can  penetrate, 
one  of  two  adaptations  usually  occurs:  the  eyes  either 
atrophy,  the  animal  finding  it  safer  to  depend  on  the  sense 
of  touch  alone,  or  else  they  become  very  large,  to  catch  all 
the  rays  of  light  possible.  Sometimes  these  deep-sea  ani- 
mals possess  their  own  luminous  organs,  which  are  useful 
not  only  in  the  search  for  food,  but  likewise  as  weapons  of 
defense,  and  which,  like  dark  lanterns,  they  flash  upon  their 
frightened  enemies.  Again,  other  species  hang  out  their 
lanterns  to  tempt  their  unwary  prey  within  easy  reach.  In 
certain  lizards  there  are  found  concealed  beneath  a  scale  in 
the  center  of  the  head  the  atrophied  remains  of  wjiat  was  a 
perfect  median  eye  in  the  now  extinct  ancestral  forms. 
This  eye  is  connected  with  that  curious  and  unexplained 
organ  the  pineal  gland,  which  has  at  least  served  a  useful 
purpose  as  a  target  for  theory  makers.  It  was  in  this  organ, 
you  will  remember,  that  Descartes  located  the  seat  of  the 
soul,  and  we  now  find  it  connected  with  a  once  functional 
window  of  that  elusive  phantom.  This  pineal  eye  has  been 
studied  in  several  reptilian  forms  by  Mr.  Spencer,  who  con- 
cluded that  it  is  identical  with  the  median  eye  of  the  ich- 
thyosaurus and  allied  extinct  reptilia>  in  which  it  attained 
large  size. 


The  Evolution  of  Optics.  279 

As  we  ascend  in  the  animal  scale  we  find  the  pineal  gland 
becomes  more  and  more  rudimentary,  although  present  in 
the  higher  animal  forms  up  to  man,  in  whom  it  is  a  small, 
apparently  functionless  remnant.  It  is  interesting  to  note 
that  the  pineal  eye  when  found  is  formed  after  the  inverte- 
brate type,  thus  differing  from  the  two  lateral  eyes  in  the 
same  animal. 

Certain  flat  fishes,  notably  the  Pleuronectidce,  furnish  an 
interesting  example  of  adaptation  to  changing  condition  of 
environment.  The  young  of  these  fishes  are  symmetrical, 
swim  in  an  upright  position,  and  have  an  eye  on  either  side 
of  the  head  ;  but,  from  the  habit  of  groveling  upon  the  bot- 
tom in  search  of  food,  by  which  the  lower  eye  is  exposed 
to  constant  danger  of  injury,  the  skull  undergoes  such  a 
modification  that  in  the  adult  fish,  which  swims  on  its  side, 
the  eyes  have  swung  around,  so  that  both  eyes  appear  on 
the  upper  surface  of  the  head.  And  we  sometimes  see  in 
man,  when  the  upright  position  of  the  head  is  interfered 
with  by  the  scars  of  burns  or  other  contractions,  a  some- 
what similar  modification  of  the  bones  of  the  cranium.  We 
have  referred  several  times  to  a  nictitating  membrane,  a 
third  eyelid  which  is  found  in  many  lower  animals,  where  it 
exists  in  a  state  of  perfection.  In  man  and  the  Quadrumana 
this  is  present  only  as  a  rudimentary  organ,  a  small  func- 
tionless fold  at  the  inner  corner  of  the  eye,  an  ever-present 
reminder  of  our  relation  to  the  lower  animals. 

While  discussing  the  subject  of  the  developmental  stages 
through  which  the  eye  has  already  passed,  the  question 
naturally  arises,  "  Has  our  own  eye  reached  its  final  and 
most  perfect  form,  or  is  it  still  in  the  process  of  evolution  ?  " 
As  we  have  seen  when  considering  the  human  eye,  the 
ideally  perfect  organ  when  in  a  state  of  rest  is  adapted  for 
vision  at  infinite  distances.  It  is  the  eye  best  suited  for  the 
savage  in' the  chase  or  in  war,  to  the  sailor,  to  any  man  who 
leads  an  outdoor,  country  life ;  but  in  the  process  of  civil- 
ization the  eye  is  put  under  conditions  to  which  it  is  by  no 
means  so  well  adapted.  In  the  crowded  city  the  eye  is  con- 
stantly directed  through  all  the  waking  moments  to  objects 
at  short  range.  Its  longest  distance  is  across  the  narrow 
street,  while  its  most  usual  range  is  from  the  desk  or  book 
to  the  limits  of  a  room.  The  result  is  that  the  focusing 
power  is  called  constantly  into  play.  The  muscles  which 
converge  the  eye  exercise  a  constant  tension  upon  the  globe, 
while  the  enervating  habits  of  city  life  do  not  tend  to  fit 


280  The  Evolution  of  Optics. 

the  organ  to  withstand  this  increased  strain.  The  result  is 
that  the  eyeball  gives  way  beneath  this  pressure ;  it  becomes 
elongated,  and  in  its  position  of  rest  is  now  adapted  for  the 
perception  of  near  objects.  It  is  an  undoubted  fact  that 
near-sightedness  is  on  the  increase  among  the  more  civil- 
ized races.  It  develops  usually  in  childhood,  and  statistics 
show  that  in  school-children  the  degree  of  near-sightedness 
is  directly  in  proportion  to  the  number  of  hours  of  study. 

It  might  at  first  appear  very  desirable  that  the  eye  should 
thus  adapt  itself  to  the  work  it  has  to  do ;  and  so,  no  doubt, 
it  would  be  were  these  near-sighted  eyes  healthy  and  perfect 
organs.  But,  unfortunately,  this  is  not  the  case.  The  devel- 
opment of  near-sightedness  is  attended  with  grave  dangers. 
It  means  a  giving  away  of  the  firm  fibrous  capsule  of  the 
eye  and  always  endangers  the  delicate  nervous  elements  be- 
neath. The  near-sighted  eye  is  a  diseased  eye  and  is  always 
liable  to  still  further  deterioration.  The  process  is  distinct- 
ly hereditary,  the  children  of  near-sighted  parents  being 
frequently  born  near-sighted,  and  when  born  with  normal 
eyes  earlier  develop  more  aggravated  cases  of  near-sighted- 
ness than  the  children  of  healthy  parents.  Thus  Nature's 
latest  attempt  to  improve  our  visual  organs  is  of  but  doubt- 
ful utility. 

The  problems  of  physiological  optics  thus  far  encountered 
are  much  less  involved  than  those  which  arise  in  connection 
with  the  color-sense.  Anything  approaching  a  connected 
and  logical  statement  of  this  subject  would  require  a  much 
more  elaborate  treatment  than  is  here  possible,  and  I  shall 
be  obliged  to  omit  many  facts  which  I  fear  are  almost  essen- 
tial to  a  rational  presentation  of  the  subject. 

From  the  time  of  Thomas  Young  to  a  comparatively  re- 
cent period  the  ability  of  the  retina  to  differentiate  color 
has  been  practically  unquestioned.  Young  saw  the  logical 
necessity  for  retinal  elements  capable  of  receiving  each 
phase  of  vibration  of  a  continuous  spectrum,  but  believed  it 
impossible  that  so  many  different  retinal  elements  could 
exist.  He  therefore  assumed  arbitrarily  the  existence  of 
three  sets  of  fibers  corresponding  to  what  he  called  the  three 
primary  colors — red,  green,  and  violet.  Another  theory 
somewhat  similar  was  suggested  by  Herring,  which,  in  place 
of  retinal  elements,  assumed  the  presence  of  three  chemical 
substances  which  were  supposed  to  have  certain  positive  and 
negative  reactions  to  light.  Neither  of  these  theories  has 
any  discoverable  foundation  in  the  anatomical  structure  of 


The  Evolution  of  Optics.  281 

the  retina,  nor  are  they  supported  by  any  known  facts  as  to 
the  nature  of  light.  The  presence  of  three  kinds  of  retinal 
elements  or  of  three  chemical  substances  can  not  be  demon- 
strated. Neither  can  any  division  of  light-vibrations  cor- 
responding to  three  primary  colors,  nor,  in  fact,  to  any  color, 
be  found  in  the  spectrum. 

When  the  spectral  band  falls  on  the  retina,  the  material 
with  which  the  retina  has  to  deal  is  simply  a  series  of  ether- 
vibrations  of  varying  periods,  and  in  this  series  we  find  those 
waves  which  we  see  as  one  color  differ  as  widely  from  each 
other  as  they  do  from  the  vibrations  in  the  next  adjacent 
color  band.  The  difficulty  seems  to  be  that,  having  started 
with  the  assumption  that  the  power  to  differentiate  color 
resided  in  the  retina,  a  retinal  structure  has  been  assumed 
to  correspond  to  the  theory ;  but  why  this  work  has  been 
assigned  to  three  sets  of  nerve  fibers  or  chemical  substances 
is  not  clear.  I  see  no  escape  for  those  who  hold  this  theory 
but  the  assumption  of  a  retinal  substance  attuned  to  each 
vibration  in  the  visible  spectrum,  for,  as  we  have  before  said, 
no  breaks  occur  corresponding  to  the  color  bands  with 
which  we  are  acquainted  in  experience. 

There  has  been  much  good  work  done  of  late  in  illumi- 
nating this  dark  field  of  color-perception,  and  the  theory 
that  seems  most  acceptable  to  our  evolutionary  ideas  is  that 
which  transfers  the  seat  of  color-differentiation  from  the 
retina  to  the  brain.  All  the  retina  has  to  do  is  to  receive 
the  rays  of  light  which  fall  upon  it,  and  which  create,  ac- 
cording to  their  wave-length,  a  characteristic  molecular  dis- 
turbance, thus  making  the  function  of  the  eye  a  refined 
temperature-sense,  and  the  translation  of  such  impressions 
into  what  we  know  as  color  a  purely  psychical  phenomenon. 

That  we  do  see  definite  bands  of  color,  and  that  our  ordi- 
nary division  of  the  spectrum  must  have  a  basis  of  fact 
somewhere,  seems  self-evident.  The  explanation  of  this 
phenomenon  has  been  very  ably  given  by  my  friend  Dr. 
Gould,  and  I  would  recommend  his  instructive  monograph 
on  the  human  color-sense  to  all  who  are  interested  in  this 
subject.  He  starts  with  the  fundamental  idea  that  our 
color-sense  must  be  the  organism's  response  in  reaction  un- 
der stimulus.  It  has  arisen  as  a  response  to  light-stimulus ; 
not  to  the  stimulus  of  pure  white  light,  but  to  the  light  that 
we  see  every  day  in  nature. 

"  Sunlight,  we  are  told,  is  composed  of  the  following 
parts: 


282  The  Evolution  of  Optics 

54 Red. 

140 Orange-red. 

80 Orange. 

114 Orange-yellow. 

54 Yellow. 

206 Greenish-yellow. 

121 Yellowish-green. 

134 Green  and  Blue-green. 

32 Cyan-blue. 

40 Cyan. 

20 Ultramarine  and  blue- violet. 

5 Violet. 

1,000 
Condensing  the  intermediates  with  the  principals,  we  have : 

Bed  colors 194 

Golden  colors 454 

Green  colors .255 

Blue  colors 97 

1,000  " 

The  explanation  of  such  a  grouping  of  light- waves  is  taken 
to  be  due  to  the  fact  that,  among  the  color  stimuli  which 
the  eye  has  received,  the  golden  stimuli  have  largely  predomi- 
nated. The  ordinary  diffused  daylight  is  slightly  yellowish, 
and  obscuration,  as  from  a  turbid  atmosphere,  increases  this 
hue.  The  rising  and  the  setting  sun  floods  the  earth  with 
golden  light ;  again,  the  yellow  light  of  fire  has,  since  the 
first  dawn  of  civilization,  played  a  most  important  place  in 
man's  history.  By  fire-worship,  by  burnt-offerings  in  almost 
any  form  of  religious  belief,  the  golden  firelight  has  im- 
pressed itself  on  man's  attention. 

The  next  most  important  class  is  that  of  the  greens — 
which  are  abundantly  present  in  nature,  being  the  pre- 
dominant color  in  vegetation. 

The  next  class  is  that  of  the  reds,  where  we  meet  with  a 
very  interesting  and  important  fact.  Were  any  of  us  asked, 
"Which  is  the  strongest  color?"  I  think  we  would  reply, 
"  Red,"  unless  we  had  looked  into  the  matter  a  little  critical- 
ly, and  we  would  be  surprised  to  find  that  red  is  not  a  color 
of  high  luminous  power,  nor  can  the  feeling  of  the  striking 
and  important  nature  of  red  be  due  to  the  fact  that  the 
quantity  of  the  red  stimulus  in  nature  has  been  powerful 
enough  to  give  it  this  exalted  place  in  our  estimation. 

The   explanation   of   this  fact  Dr.  Gould  finds   to   be 


The  Evolution  of  Optics  283 

in  the  part  that  blood  has  played  in  the  world's  history. 
Throughout  the  long  struggle  for  existence  among  the 
higher  animals  bloodshed  has  ever  been  the  constant  ac- 
companiment of  strife,  has  stained  the  weapons  of  the  vic- 
tor, marked  the  defeat  of  the  conquered. 

Throughout  the  history  of  all  religions  and  all  social  cus- 
toms we  find  that  blood  has  always  played  a  most  important 
part.  We  read  of  "  the  blood-drinking,  blood-baiting,  blood- 
ransoming,  blood  unions,  blood  compacts  and  friendships, 
blood  sacrifices  and  blood  suppers,  blood  burials,  blood  cures 
and  sprinklings,  bloody  hands  and  uplifted  arms,  blood 
transfusions,  human  sacrifices  and  cannibalism,  bloody 
burnt-offerings  and  blood-stained  ark  of  the  covenant, 
bloody  passions  and  bloody  atonements  " ;  and  thus  through- 
out the  long  and  passionate  strife  of  mankind  has  the  red 
burned  itself  deep  into  the  human  soul  and  has  come  to  oc- 
cupy this  prominent  position  in  our  estimate  of  color  while 
only  possessing  that  luminous  intensity  to  which  its  com- 
parative infrequency  in  nature  would  entitle  it.  "The 
portion  of  spectral  blue  is  small  in  extent  and  weak  in 
power.  It  has  a  character  of  distance  and  impersonality, 
exactly  corresponding  to  the  sources  whence  this  color  has 
reached  the  eye.  The  sky  is  above,  but  man's  eyes  are  sel- 
dom raised  to  it.  At  the  horizon  it  often  fades  into  violet, 
in  which  the  spectrum  likewise  passes  out  of  sight." 

Dr.  Gould  concludes :  "  "Waves  of  more  or  less  extended 
differences  of  length  are  perceived  as  a  single  color,  just  as 
the  bulk  of  the  waves  from  each  of  these  classes  of  objects 
have  been  most  uniformly  and  persistently  reflected  into  the 
eye  during  the  growth  of  the  race.  Nature  has  acted  upon 
the  organism  in  these  continuous  ways,  and  the  cerebral 
product  is  the  spectral  colors  in  the  proportions  and  with 
the  characteristics  we  find  appearing  in  consciousness.  The 
largest  and  most  persistent  stimulus  has  been  that  of  the 
gold  rays — the  varied  shades  of  the  diffused  light  of  day  or 
the  ever-present  mystery  of  fire.  These  have  been  poured 
in  profusion  into  all  eyes,  comprising  nearly  one  half  of 
their  total  stimulus,  while  the  green  rays  make  up  a  fourth, 
the  red  less  than  a  fourth,  and  the  blue  a  still  more  limited 
amount." 

"We  likewise  find  the  objective  luminous  intensities  to 
bear  the  same  relations  to  each  other. 

"We  can  not  enter  further  into  this  interesting  discussion, 
but  I  think  we  may  safely  assume  that  this  theory  offers 


284  The  Evolution  of  Optics. 

the  most  satisfactory  explanation  of  the  origin  of  our  color- 


It  is  asserted  that  color- vision  is  a  later  and  more  refined 
sense  than  the  vision  of  form,  and  it  is  well  known  that  it  is 
presided  over  by  a  separate  cerebral  center.  It  is  also  sub- 
ject to  very  frequent  modifications ;  for  example,  among  the 
sect  of  Quakers,  which  has  existed  only  for  a  comparatively 
short  time,  and  who  so  religiously  avoid  all  use  of  color  in 
dress,  color-blindness  is  said  to  be  proportionately  greater 
than  among  other  communities.  It  is  much  more  frequent 
among  men  than  among  women,  whose  habits  render  color- 
vision  more  important  to  them ;  it  is  frequently  transmitted 
in  the  male  line  of  a  family  through  females  possessing  per- 
fect color- vision. 

The  color-sense  is  certainly  capable  of  great  education, 
although  it  seems  to  be  developed  in  the  lowest  races  of 
mankind.  Goethe  tells  us  that  the  mosaic  workers  in  Italy 
are  in  the  habitual  use  of  fifteen  thousand  varieties  of  hues, 
each  variety  comprising  fifty  tints,  a  perfection  of  color- 
sensation  which  is  truly  marvelous. 

"We  can  scarcely  argue  from  the  color-vision  of  man  to 
that  of  the  lower  animals.  The  color-sense  is  most  highly 
developed,  no  doubt,  in  many  lower  animals,  but  that  their 
perception  of  color  is  identical  with  ours  is  by  no  means 
proved.  In  some  cases  we  know  definitely  that  the  limits 
of  the  visible  spectrum  are  not  the  same.  Lubbock  has 
shown  this  to  be  the  case  with  ants  by  a  series  of  very  inter- 
esting experiments.  This  fact  alone  should  make  us  ex- 
tremely cautious  in  assuming  such  identity. 

The  eye,  as  we  have  seen,  has  developed  in  various  classes 
of  animals  in  a  somewhat  different  way,  and  it  seems  prob- 
able that  color-vision,  which  is  a  later  development — a  re- 
finement, as  it  were — of  light-perception,  has  been  modified 
by  the  structure  of  the  eye  and  the  habits  of  its  possessor. 
It  seems  much  safer,  therefore,  to  explain  the  human  color- 
sense  in  the  manner  we  have  just  outlined  than  to  trace  it, 
as  is  sometimes  done,  from  animals  far  removed  from  man 
in  the  line  of  descent. 


Ttie  Evolution  of  Optics.  285 


ABSTRACT   OF   THE    DISCUSSION. 

DR.  GEORGE  M.  GOULD  : 

The  excellent  lecture  of  my  friend  Dr.  Alleman  is  so  complete  that 
we  who  follow  can  find  but  little  to  add.  I  can  not  let  the  present 
opportunity  pass,  however,  without  protesting  a  little  against  my 
friend's  passive  assent  to  mechanical  and  materialistic  explanations. 

To  the  belief  in  evolution  I  heartily  subscribe.  But  I  am  also  a 
believer  in  logic  and  the  laws  of  thought ;  a  firm  believer  in  never 
going  into  captivity  to  a  popular  craze,  or  Zeitgeist,  or  disbelieving 
what  I  see  and  know,  even  though  all  the  Darwins  and  Spencers  and 
Lubbocks  of  the  world  should  tell  me  it  is  not  so.  My  friend  quotes, 
with  apparent  consent,  the  explanation  of  the  origin  of  the  eye  as  due 
to  certain  opaque  particles  of  pigment  deposited  in  certain  parts  of 
the  skin — purely  accidentally,  is  the  sous-entendu  inference — which 
would  arrest  and  absorb  light,  and  that  if  this  rudimental  accidental 
eye  should  perchance  be  attended  by  an  adjacent  depression  of  the 
skin,  these  cells  would  be  better  protected — the  protection  being 
again  a  little  matter  of  pure  mechanical  chance.  Now,  so  far  as  the 
origin  of  the  organ  of  vision  or  of  any  organ  is  concerned,  people  are 
fast  beginning  to  suspect  the  utterly  asinine  quality  of  such  explana- 
tions. If  you  take  up  the  works  of  a  large  class  of  science-plebifica- 
tors  you  will  find  instances,  like  the  above,  of  how  a  little  learning 
may  make  one  mad.  I  found,  in  a  popular  little  book  of  one  such, 
the  other  day,  the  amazing,  imperturbable,  impertinent  saying  that 
chemistry  had  shown  that  there  is  no  essential  difference  between  the 
organic  and  inorganic,  and  that  the  sensitiveness  of  protoplasm  ex- 
plains all  biological  phenomena.  Of  course,  if  one  have  poise,  self- 
possession,  eyes  of  his  own,  a  logical  mind,  he  soon  comes  to  see  the 
fallacy  of  the  modern  popular  unscientific  science  of  the  day,  as  illus- 
trated in  this  outrageous  nonsense.  The  sad  thing  is,  that  many  peo- 
ple take  such  explanations  and  the  animus  of  such  explanations  on 
trust,  and  drift  into  materialism — the  absurdest  of  all  creeds,  as  Hux- 
ley says.  Young  people  should  be  taught  that  the  covert  and  assumed 
mechanicalism  of  these  pseudo-explanations  is  not  only  unjustified  by 
good  science  or  by  good  scientists,  but  is  a  crude  eighteenth-century 
infidelity  masking  in  a  nineteenth-century  science-cloak.  I  have  not 
the  faintest  objection  to  materialism,  mechanicalism,  or  atheism,  if  the 
facts  of  life  warrant  them — or  if  they  are  true.  The  fact  is,  they  are 


286  The  Evolution  of  Optics. 

not  true.  Sensitive  protoplasm  explains  all,  if  sensitiveness  be  ex- 
plained and  if  we  are  told  how  protoplasm  came  into  existence. 
Chemistry  has  no  more  conception  of  the  chemical  processes  of  organic 
metabolism  than  have  birds  on  telegraph  wires  a  hint  of  the  messages 
going  through  their  feet.  The  bit  of  "  opaque  pigment "  and  the  "  de- 
pression "  were  no  more  fortuitous  results  in  the  evolution  of  the  eye 
than  the  electric  button  of  your  Edison  light  is  a  chance  accident  of 
house-building.  Function  always  precedes  organization.  Life  always 
precedes  function,  and  purpose  rules  every  step  of  evolution.  Where 
purposiveness,  there  mentality.  Selection  requires  a  selector,  and  natu- 
ral selection,  as  a  blind  force  or  mechanical  explanation,  never  modi- 
fied an  organ  or  begot  an  adaptation.  Living  matter  and  dead  matter 
are  the  most  dissimilar  things  in  this  world,  and  to  explain  life  as  a 
function  of  matter  is  the  height  of  absurdity.  Evolution  can  not 
evolve  what  was  not  previously  involved,  or  what  was  not  within  the 
evolving  thing ;  the  effect  exists  potentially  in  the  cause.  I  look  upon 
the  origin  of  the  eye  as  of  that  of  every  organ — as  a  designed  tool  of 
intelligent,  ingenious  life.  The  pigment  spot  was  located  in  the  best 
place  by  a  mentally  equipped  protoplasm  *  or  purposive  power,  and  its 
outfitting  is  a  beautiful  example  of  intelligence. 

As  regards  the  varieties  and  modifications  of  eyes  found  in  animals, 
Dr.  Alleman  has  brought  out  clearly  the  laws  expressing  or  causing 
them.  The  first  and  most  important  consists  in  the  influence  of  loco- 
motive powers  or  habits.  The  greater  and  swifter  and  more  compli- 
cated the  movements  of  an  animal,  the  more  perfect  the  organ  of 
vision  if  light  be  present.  This  fact  was  forcibly  brought  home  to  me 
very  lately.  I  got  from  the  United  States  Fish  Commissioner  some 
little  brook-trout  eggs.  They  were  about  a  sixth  of  an  inch  in  diame- 
ter, almost  transparent.  Putting  one  under  a  one-inch  objective,  you 
could  see  the  wonderful  little  being  all  formed,  and  could  even  see  the 
blood-corpuscles  and  currents  sweeping  through  the  tiny  blood-vessels 
like  sand  through  an  hour-glass.  Most  astounding,  however,  were  the 
tremendous  great  eyes!  So  important  is  vision  to  the  "speckled 
beauties"  in  catching  flies  and  escaping  enemies  and  obstacles,  so 
quickly  must  they  move  among  the  pebbles  of  their  home,  that  Life 
had  thus  early  had  to  make  the  eye  her  chief  work  of  formation  and 
arrangement.  I  hatched  the  little  fellows  out,  and,  despite  their  big 
yolk-sacs,  when  the  light  comes  they  run  like  mad  for  a  protecting 
pebble.  So  it  is  all  through  the  animal  kingdom.  Visual  power  and 
perfection  had  to  keep  pace  with  or  precede  the  necessities  of  quick 

*  A  word  nobody  knows  the  meaning  of.  and  a  thing  nobody  knows  the  chem- 
ical construction  of,  and  which  no  two  persons  would  apply  to  the  same  sub- 
stance. It  is  a  name  not  understood,  given  a  thing  not  understood  by  persons 
not  understanding. 


The  Evolution  of  Optics.  287 

motion  and  precise  action.  1  suppose  there  is  no  organ  in  the  universe 
responding  with  such  lightning-like  precision  to  such  infinitely  small 
and  infinitely  quick  stimulation  as  the  eye  of  a  humming-bird.  One  is 
simply  appalled  and  thrilled  by  such  an  astonishing  miracle.  So  im- 
portant is  accurate  vision  to  birds  of  prey  that  they  have  two  fovea, 
an  explanation  of  which  fact  is  not  at  present  quite  clear.  The  re- 
markable adaptive  power  of  life  is  shown  by  the  change  life  has  had  to 
undertake  in  the  evolution  of  her  eyes.  Dr.  Alleman  has  admirably 
made  clear  the  difference  between  the  construction  of  the  two  types  of 
eye,  the  invertebrate  and  the  vertebrate.  The  fact  seems  to  show  that 
the  perfection  of  eye  required  by  the  vertebrate  could  not  be  gained 
on  the  invertebrate  type  or  plan,  and  a  complete  about-face  was  under- 
taken and  carried  through.  It  is  extremely  suggestive  that  the  retina 
and  lens  of  the  invertebrate  eye  are  developed  from  the  epidermal 
structures,  while  in  the  vertebrates  the  retina  is  developed  from  the 
brain.  In  other  words,  in  invertebrates  the  light  goes  into  the  brain 
to  affect  it,  but  in  the  vertebrates  the  brain  comes  out  to  see !  The 
fact,  like  many  another,  shows  also  that  Life,  though  intelligent  and 
ingenious  beyond  any  human  conception,  is  yet  not  omniscient. 
Neither  is  she  omnipotent;  she  is  always  working  under  difficulties 
and  with  inexhaustible  cunning,  doing  the  best  she  can  with  the  mate- 
rials at  command.  We  are  at  present  incapable  of  catching  the  least 
glimpse  of  a  reason  why  the  optic  nerves  and  organs  constituting  the 
retina  should  in  vertebrates  turn  backward  and  the  light  be  thus 
forced  to  pierce  the  numerous  layers  of  the  retina  until  it  reaches  the 
final  pigmentary  layer  into  which  the  rods  and  cones  dip.  It  looks 
like  a  very  poor  plan  indeed,  but  it  is  because  our  little  minds  are  so 
poor  that  we  think  so.  It  seems  to  work  pretty  well — perhaps  better 
than  any  plan  we  could  have  devised.  You  have  all  heard  of  the  no- 
ble Castilian  who  wished  he  had  been  present  when  God  created  the 
world— he  could  have  given  him  such  excellent  advice !  The  modem 
pseudo-scientist  is  filled  with  that  spirit,  and,  on  the  assumption  that 
God  is  omnipotent  and  omniscient,  the  point  becomes  less  vulgarly  im- 
pertinent ;  but  if  the  demiurge  is  neither  omnipotent  nor  omniscient, 
but  works,  as  he  evidently  does,  under  difficulties,  then  the  imperti- 
nence becomes  the  most  colossal  impudence.  In  illustration  of  the  in- 
fluence of  locomotion  upon  vision  the  following  instances  are  note- 
worthy : 

Sacculina,  a  degenerate  parasitical  crustacean,  in  its  early  life 
moves  freely  about  with  complex  organs  of  locomotion.  It  fastens 
upon  the  crab's  tail  and  loses  its  organs  of  locomotion,  losing  also  its 
eyes  and  other  organs  of  special  sense. 

The  Pinnotheridw,  a  family  of  crabs,  have  vision  while  moving 


288  The  Evolution  of  Optics. 

about,  but  when  they  settle  down  in  the  lungs  of  the  Chinese  sea- 
slugs  the  brow  grows  over  the  eyes. 

There  are  three  families  of  vertebrates  that  live  as  parasites  in  ants' 
nests.  They  are  blind,  or  nearly  so,  two  having  lost  their  limbs.  In- 
deed, it  is  the  rule  that  the  young  of  most  blind  parasites  have  eyes. 
The  number  of  such  blind  degenerate  species  tells  a  sad  story  of  the 
fall  of  animals  as  profound  as  any  "  fall  of  man." 

All  these  facts  are  corollaries  of  the  great  law  that  use  develops 
function  and  disuse  is  followed  by  atrophy.  Another  controlling  law 
operating  under  and  with  this  law  consists  in  the  influence  of  dimin- 
ished and  denied  light.  The  most  interesting  examples  of  this  law 
are  the  eyes  of  deep-sea  fish.  A  writer  in  the  Cornhill  Magazine  has 
thus  stated  the  facts : 

"  Fish  that  live  at  very  great  depths  have  either  no  eyes  at  all  or 
enormously  big  ones.  Indeed,  there  are  two  ways  you  may  get  on  in 
these  gloomy  abysses — by  delicate  touch  organs,  or  by  sight  that  col- 
lects the  few  rays  of  light  due  to  phosphorescence  or  other  accidental 
sources.  Now,  as  we  go  down  in  the  water  we  find  at  each  depth  that 
the  effects  produced  upon  the  eyes  of  fish  are  steadily  progressive  in 
one  direction  or  the  other.  Species  that  live  at  a  depth  of  eighty 
fathoms  have  the  eye  already  a  good  deal  bigger  than  their  nearest  rep- 
resentatives that  live  at  or  near  the  surface.  Down  to  the  depth  of 
200  fathoms,  where  daylight  disappears,  the  eyes  get  constantly  bigger 
and  bigger.  Beyond  that  depth  small-eyed  forms  set  in,  with  long 
feelers  developed  to  supplement  the  eyes.  Sight,  in  fact,  is  here  begin- 
ning to  atrophy.  In  the  greatest  abysses  the  fish  are  mostly  blind, 
feeling  their  way  about  entirely  by  their  sensitive  bodies  alone  over 
the  naked  surface  of  rock  at  the  bottom.  Some  of  them  have  still  ex- 
ternal relics  of  functionless  eyes ;  in  others,  the  oldest  and  most  con- 
firmed abysmal  species,  the  eye  has  altogether  disappeared  externally, 
though  its  last  representative  may  still  be  recognized,  imbedded  deep 
in  the  tissues  of  the  head." 

You  all  know  about  the  blind  fish  of  the  Mammoth  and  other  caves. 
Before  birth  the  optic  nerve  is  connected  with  the  eye  of  the  mole,  but 
during  adult  life  it  is  usually  atrophied,  and  the  mole  is  of  course 
blind.  The  Spolax  d1  Olivier,  or  mole-rat,  also  lives  underground,  and 
is  blind,  though  having  some  rudiments  of  eyes  left  under  the  skin. 
An  aquatic  reptile  Proteus,  living  in  obscure  caverns,  has  only  traces 
of  the  organ  of  vision.  The  number  of  blind  or  partially  blind  species 
is  said  to  number  hundreds.  So  fearfully  does  the  law  of  hunger  sac- 
rifice everything  else  to  its  implacable  rule.  A  remarkable  illustration 
is  also  that  of  the  African  tunnel  ants,  or  termites.  No  one  can  ever 
forget  Drummond's  beautiful  essay  on  them.  There  are  three  intoler- 


The  Evolution  of  Optics.  289 

able  mysteries  about  them  that  puzzle  me  beyond  measure :  First,  how 
do  they  construct  covered  ways  by  the  million  whose  engineering 
difficulties  and  tremendous  labor  exceed  those  of  the  Mount  Cenis 
tunnel  by  man,  with  never  a  mining  or  building  worker  showing  itself 
to  view  ?  How  do  they  build  from  an  incomplete  tunnel-end  without 
exposure  to  light?  Second,  how  do  they,  absolutely  eyeless,  know 
darkness  from  day  f  Third,  and  most  wonderful,  why  does  the  huge 
queen,  whose  whole  life  is  spent  in  one  spot,  in  the  dark,  and  in  lay- 
ing eggs,  have  eyes,  and  her  progeny  have  none  ? 

Lastly  may  be  briefly  noticed  some  of  the  ingenious  ways  by  which 
Life  has  outwitted  darkness  and  made  it  possible  for  her  children  to 
see  in  spite  of  denied  or  diminished  light.  These  devices  consist  prin- 
cipally of  three  classes : 

1.  Widening  of  the  iris,  diaphragm,  or  window-curtain  of  the  eye,  so 
to  gather  a  larger  quantity  of  weak  light.    Every  child  knows  the  re- 
markable power  of  the  cat  to  widen  the  pupil  in  darkness  and  narrow 
it  to  a  mere  thread-like  slit  in  the  light. 

2.  Increasing  the  size  of  the  whole  eye  with  the  same  object  in  view 
and  synchronous  with  the  enlargement  of  the  pupil  also. 

3.  The  creation  of  the  tapetum  lucidum  in  nocturnal  vertebrates, 
such  as  the  tiger  family,  dogs,  etc.    This,  as  Dr.  Alleman  has  pointed 
out,  is  an  organic  concave  mirror  usually  about  one  third  the  size  of 
the  retina,  situated  at  the  back  part  of  the  eye,  and  gathers  to  a  focus 
in  front  of  the  animal  the  little  light  that  may  enter  the  eye  in  the 
dark.  It  is  a  structure  too  little  studied  and  understood.   One  can  not 
comprehend  how  the  same  light  can  be  used  to  stimulate  the  retina  and 
also  be  reflected  out  of  the  eye.    This  physical  difficulty  has  always 
made  me  wonder  if  the  light  it  throws  in  front  is  not  phosphorescent 
or  self -created. 

4.  The  development  of  the  function  of  phosphorescence.  No  human 
chemist  or  physicist  has  ever  been  able  to  understand  how  these  nu- 
merous animals  can  create  light  without  at  the  same  time  creating  a 
burning  heat.    The  Edison  who  does  this  for  our  street  and  house 
illumination  has  awaiting  him  a  fortune  greater  than  that  of  Jay  Gould 
and  Vanderbilt  combined.    We  are  some  way  behind  the  glow-worm 
yet,  despite  the  naturalists. 

5.  Finally,  the  hypertrophy  or  refinement  of  the  tactile  and  other 
senses  may  in  part  compensate  for  the  loss  of  sight.    The  antennae  and 
feelers  of  many  insects  are  doubtless  thus  used.    The  acuteness  of  the 
sense  of  touch  of  blind  people  is  well  known.    Blind  men  have  been 
authorities  in  the  science  of  conchology,  in  numismatics,  in  botany, 
etc.,  and  something  akin  to  the  distinctions  of  color  are  credited  to 
some  blind  people.    The  timbre  of  the  sound  of  a  struck  object  aids 


290  The  Evolution  of  Optics. 

the  blind  man  tapping  the  pavement  with  his  cane  to  keep  him  in  safe 
or  known  ways.  It  is  said  that  Laura  Bridgman  could  tell  idiots  or 
insane  people  by  the  feeling  of  their  hands.  I  believe  it  has  been  dem- 
onstrated that  eyeless  bats  escape  obstacles  in  their  flight  by  the  fact 
of  the  increased  atmospheric  pressure  near  these  objects,  which  is  per- 
ceived by  the  hypersensitive  interdigital  membrane. 

My  friend  has  alluded  to  that  curious  structure,  the  pineal  eye,  and 
was  doubtless  laughing  slyly  at  me  when  he  spoke  of  this  organ  being 
a  good  target  for  theory-shooters.  I  have  had  my  say  about  it,  and, 
while  far  from  dogmatic,  I  still  suggest  that  it  may  have  something  to 
do  with  the  perception  of  the  magnetic  currents  of  the  earth  and  with 
that  exquisite,  wonderful,  beautiful  mystery,  the  homing  instinct. 

But  I  am  very  proud  of  another  theory  I  have  been  guilty  of  father- 
ing, and  also  proud  that  it  has  received  the  approbation  of  your  lect- 
urer. This  theory  of  mine  in  regard  to  the  origin  and  significance  of 
our  human  color-sense  unfortunately  appeared  years  ago  in  a  periodical 
that  in  publishing  it  did  in  fact  bury  it,  and  I  firmly  believe  that  it  is 
worthy  of  the  serious  consideration  of  students  of  science,  evolution, 
and  aesthetics.  I  hope  to  see  it  some  time  resurrected,  not  so  much  as 
a  salve  of  slightly  wounded  vanity,  but  because  it  seems  to  me  to  be  a 
great  and  valuable  truth.  It  is  strictly  in  the  line  of  the  teaching  of 
evolution  doctrine,  harmonizes  with  archaeology  and  history,  and  is 
adequate.  I  have  great  respect  for  that  acute  and  genial  observer, 
Grant  Allen,  but  his  theory  of  the  origin  of  our  color-sense  seems  to 
me  trivial,  inadequate,  and  unworthy  of  his  genius.  It  is  an  explana- 
tion that  explains  nothing.  I  think  the  mystery  of  our  color-sense  is 
due  to  the  effect  of  the  great  orders  of  natural  and  historical  color- 
stimuli  that  have  poured  into  the  human  eye  and  brain  in  the  past 
ages,  and  with  these  streams  of  stimuli  have  also  been  deposited  in  the 
human  mind  the  influences  that  now  make  the  symbolism  of  color. 

Allow  me  to  read  a  few  sentences  from  my  pamphlet :  * 

"  If  we  ask  what  great  color-classes  of  visible  objects  have  most  oc- 
cupied man's  eye  and  mind  in  all  past  history,  we  are  certain  the  an- 
swer will  be  something  like  the  following  : 

"  The  first  in  overwhelming  importance  is  light  and  fire ;  the  sec- 
ond, the  world  of  vegetation ;  the  third  would  be  blood,  as  the  con- 
crete representative  of  war  and  struggle  and  superstitious  symbol ; 
the  fourth,  the  sky  above  with  its  reflection  in  the  waters  of  the  earth. 
It  would  be  difficult  to  name  another  class,  for  whatever  other  colors 
Nature  may  have  presented  to  the  eye  of  historic  man,  they  must  have 

*  The  Human  Color-Sense  considered  as  the  Organic  Response  to  Natural 
Stimuli.  By  George  M.  Gould,  A.  B.  (Reprint  from  the  American  Journal  of 
Ophthalmology,  September,  1886.  Reprinted  entire  by  Dr.  S.  Dudley  Reynolds, 
in  Progress.) 


The  Evolution  of  Optics.  291 

been  mixtures  of  these,  or  [unimportant  exceptions  that  have  left 
only  a  small  and  inconsiderable  organic  response  in  the  psychic  mech- 
anism. 

"  Nature  has  acted  upon  the  organism  in  these  continuous  ways, 
and  the  cerebral  product  is  the  spectral  colors,  in  the  proportions  and 
with  the  characteristics  we  find  appearing  in  consciousness.  The 
largest  and  most  persistent  stimulus  has  been  that  of  the  gold  rays — 
the  varied  shades  of  the  diffused  light  of  day,  or  the  ever-present  mys- 
tery of  fire.  Those  have  been  poured  in  profusion  into  all  eyes,  com- 
prising nearly  one  half  of  their  total  stimulus,  while  the  green  rays 
make  up  a  fourth,  the  red  less  than  a  fourth,  and  the  blue  a  still  more 
limited  amount. 

"  Gladstone,  as  a  Homer  student,  and  on  simple  philological  evi- 
dence, tried  to  show  that '  they  who  fought  at  Troy '  were  as  blind  to 
certain  colors  as  Homer  himself  (supposably)  was  to  all.  Dr.  Magnus, 
in  Germany,  drew  the  same  conclusion  from  a  wider  sweeping  of 
word-lore.  The  whole  affair  was  a  dismal  collapse,  and  Allen  pricks 
the  bubble  with  justifiable  satisfaction.  It  was  hardly  to  be  expected 
that  if  ants,  bees,  and  birds  had  such  highly  developed  chromatic 
powers,  even  savage  men  should  be  so  far  behind  them.  Present-day 
barbarians  have  essentially  the  same  power  in  this  respect  as  ourselves, 
though  extreme  delicacy  of  perception  is,  to  be  sure,  not  so  highly  de- 
veloped, and  their  nomenclature  would  of  course  be  very  faulty  or  de- 
ficient, as  Gladstone  and  Magnus  might  have  supposed.  The  savage's 
delight  in  color,  as  shown  in  tattooing  and  decorating  his  body,  pre- 
supposes the  ability  to  feel  the  differences  in  color  quite  as  accurately 
as  the  birds  whose  bright  plumage  he  adorns  himself  with,  and  who 
have  no'  words  for  colors  either.  The  development  of  color  perception 
lies  far  back  of  all  this,  and  is  as  old  as  hunger,  in  satisfying  which, 
and  by  the  attacks  and  escapes  of  enemies,  it  quite  certainly  took  its 
rise.  The  sobering  remark  of  "Wallace  is  also  a  propos,  that  it  is  the 
absence  of  color  that  would  require  accounting  for ;  he  says  that  the 
most  conspicuous  pigeons,  whether  by  their  color  or  by  their  crests, 
are  all  found  where  they  have  fewest  enemies." 

Allow  me  a  few  words  upon  the  future  of  the  organ  of  vision,  or 
upon  what  might  be  called  The  Eye  and  Civilization.  Dr.  Alleman 
has  used  words  implying  that  myopia  is  Nature's  attempt  and  failure 
to  adapt  the  eye  to  the  demands  of  civilization.  I  do  not  agree  with 
this  view.  The  oculists'  patients  are  always  asking  why  so  many  more 
people  have  now  to  wear  spectacles  than  was  formerly  the  case.  This, 
in  substance,  is  the  answer  I  have  given  perhaps  a  thousand  times : 
Life  created  the  eye  for  the  work  the  eye  had  to  do— that  is,  seeing 
more  or  less  distant  objects.  All  animals,  all  savage  and  uncivilized 


292  The  Evolution  of  Optics. 

peoples,  all  civilized  babies,  are  far-sighted.  The  majority  of  civilized 
people  are  also  hyperopic.  Suddenly  comes  civilization,  within  fifty 
or  one  hundred  years,  with  its  printing,  reading,  writing,  commercial- 
ism, cities,  schools,  and  indoor  life,  demanding  constant  use  of  the 
eye  upon  objects  within  a  foot  or  two,  and  keeping  the  ciliary  muscle 
in  a  state  of  abnormal  continuous  tension.  The  habits  and  structures 
of  millions  of  years'  formation  are  in  a  few  years  forced  to  do  a  work 
of  a  very  different  and  straining  sort.  Give  Nature  time  and  she  will 
turn  a  pseudopod  into  a  seal's  flipper,  a  horse's  foot,  a  bat's  wing,  or  a 
man's  hand.  But  in  the  instance  of  the  eye  no  time  has  been  allowed. 
Civilization  was  never  foreseen  by  evolution.  Civilization,  like  a 
footpad,  has  darted  upon  the  eye  and  delivered  it  a  vicious  blow,  de- 
manding, "  Your  vision  or  your  life."  Myopia  is  one  of  the  direct  re- 
sults of  the  blow,  not  the  failed  effort  of  Nature  to  heal  the  wound 
of  the  blow.  It  is  always  a  disease,  never  a  healthy  adaptation.  Na- 
ture has  been  given  no  time  to  make  modification.  Will  she  be  able 
to  do  so  ?  What  is  to  be  the  result  of  this  wolf-and-lamb  controversy  ? 
As  I  am  not  a  Brooklyn  oculist,  I  may  be  pardoned  the  vulgarity  of 
"  talking  shop  "  a  minute,  and  of  not  assuming  the  modesty  of  my 
friend  who  lives  among  you.  Indeed,  I  believe  thoroughly  in  risking 
the  crude  suspicion  of  advertising  and  of  being  credited  with  hobby- 
riding,  by  proclaiming  as  from  the  housetops  a  truth  of  profound  and 
tragic  importance.  There  are  thousands  of  people  in  this  city  to-night 
who  have  suffered  a  life  of  misery  from  headache,  sick  headache,  nerv- 
ous troubles,  and  lessened  vitality  simply  because  they  are  trying  to 
look  at  a  microscopical  specimen  with  a  telescope.  They  have  been 
leeched,  blistered,  and  cupped ;  have  taken  bromides,  nux  vomica,  caf- 
feine, iron,  antipyrine,  cod-liver-oil,  and  tonics  for  years ;  they  have 
wrapped  their  heads  in  whisky-soaked  towels,  gone  to  bed  a  day  or  two 
every  week,  taken  trips  to  the  sea-shore  or  mountains,  become  chronic 
invalids,  or  have  been  attacked  by  some  serious  disease  that  is  always 
looking  out  for  a  weakened  organism  in  which  to  settle.  It  was  all  of 
no  avail.  They  wanted  a  microscope,  and  Nature  had  made  a  telescope 
for  them.  A  good  oculist  would  make  a  fortune  in  a  year  if  he  could, 
or  would,  have  every  case  of  headache  in  the  community  to  treat  on 
condition  that  he  should  get  fifty  dollars  for  every  cure,  and  give  one 
hundred  dollars  for  every  failure  to  cure.  From  fifty  to  eighty  per 
cent  of  all  school-children  and  city  folks  are  to-day  undermining  their 
health,  depleting  their  assimilative  and  nervous  systems,  laying  the 
sure  foundations  and  preparations,  either  for  themselves  or  their  chil- 
dren, of  ill-health,  disease,  and  early  death,  simply  and  solely  from 
lack  of  a  proper  pair  of  spectacles.  Does  that  seem  like  crazy  quack- 
ery and  hobby-riding  ?  It  is  the  truest  truth  1  know.  Give  Evolution 


The  Evolution  of  Optics.  293 

a  little  affair  of  a  hundred  thousand  years  and  she  may  lengthen  the 
eyeball  a  little  in  a  healthy  way,  or,  more  properly  and  more  probably, 
will  develop  the  MQller  ring-fibers  of  the  ciliary  muscle  to  stand  this 
great  task.  But  at  present,  so  sudden  has  come  the  frightful  strain 
of  civilization  that  there  ensues  a  multitude  of  evils  whose  existence  is 
not  a  quarter  suspected  by  the  world,  and  only  half  suspected  by  the 
medical  profession.  The  great  concealing,  deceiving  fact  about  eye- 
strain  is  that  the  eye  itself  does  not  complain  or  suffer  so  much  as 
other  organs.  This  fact  makes  every  patient  say :  "  My  eyes  are  all 
right ;  do  not  pain  me  at  all,"  and  yet  that  same  patient's  life  and 
happiness  may  be  destroyed  by  eye-strain.  What  is  the  reason  of  this 
anomalous  fact  t  These  are  three  chief  of  many  reasons :  1.  Eye- 
strain  is  due  to  no  disease  whatever,  but  to  overuse  and  misuse  of  an 
organ  created  for  a  different  kind  of  use.  2.  The  enormous  and  pre- 
ponderant importance  of  the  function  of  vision  to  the  life  and  welfare 
of  the  organism  makes  Nature  throw  the  brunt  of  the  burden  upon 
other  organs.  If  eyesight  were  ruined,  then  all  is  ruined ;  other  or- 
gans, chiefly  the  nervous  system,  can  afford  to  suffer  better  than  the 
eyes.  3.  Healthy-looking  eyes  are  the  very  essence  of  beauty;  the 
eyes  are  truly  "  the  windows  of  the  soul."  Sexual  selection  has  been 
willing  to  sacrifice  everything  to  maintaining  pure,  clear  eyes,  and  has 
therefore  switched  the  morbid  results  of  eye-strain  to  other  parts 
rather  than  mar  the  beauty  of  those  superb  structures.  Hence  the 
creation  of  the  great  brood  of  reflex  ocular  neuroses.  I  am  as  con- 
vinced as  I  am  of  my  own  existence  that  a  great  deal  of  the  headache, 
anorexia,  dyspepsia,  the  reduced  vitality,  the  hysteria,  the  neurasthe- 
nia, the  anaemia,  the  now  morbidly  exalted  and  now  morbidly  de- 
pressed nervous  energy,  characteristic  especially  of  the  modern 
woman,  are  due  to  the  persistent  influence  of  eye-strain.  Of  course, 
whisky  and  corsets  and  laziness  are  also  powerful  causes.  But  the 
worst  about  eye-strain  is  that  it  does  not  kill  directly,  but  creates  the 
neurotic  type,  perverts  and  morbidizes  the  assimilative  and  nervous 
systems,  reduces  healthy  vitality,  and  manures  the  field  for  a  prolific 
crop  of  pathological  weeds. 

DR.  ROBERT  G.  ECCLES: 

While  I  agree  with  Dr.  Gould  that  function  precedes  organism  in 
the  processes  of  organic  evolution.  I  am  also  a  believer  in  the  abso- 
lutely mechanical  structure  of  the  universe.  The  introduction  of  the 
psychological  element  does  not  abolish  the  necessity  for  the  search  for 
efficient  causes  all  along  the  line  of  biological  development.  I  can 
not  see  in  what  way  the  eye  could  have  been  evolved  except  as  shown 
by  the  speaker  of  the  evening.  There  are  purpose  and  intelligence 


294  The  Evolution  of  Optics. 

manifested,  doubtless,  in  all  biological  processes,  but  not  necessarily 
the  purpose  and  intelligence  of  a  mechanical  creator,  outside  the  or- 
ganism. I  do  not  see  how  we  can  draw  the  line  between  consciousness 
in  the  life  of  an  organized  creature  and  consciousness  in  the  atom.  I 
believe  that  each  atom  is  endowed  with  a  consciousness  of  its  own — 
that  their  structural  combinations  are  thus  intelligently  guided  in  a 
manner  similar  to  that  in  which  individuals  unite  to  form  societies 
and  states.  Every  consciousness,  however,  works  in  an  orderly  man- 
ner, according  to  laws  strictly  mechanical  in  their  nature.  The  prob- 
lem is  immensely  complex ;  but  if  we  could  grasp  all  its  conditions  we 
could  trace  the  operation  of  cause  and  effect  throughout  the  entire 
process,  even  up  to  the  development  of  the  highest  qualities  of  sense- 
perception  and  psychical  activity. 

MR.  ELLSWORTH  WARNER  : 

I  must  express  my  dissent  from  one  of  the  conclusions  of  the  lect- 
urer—that involved  in  his  advice  to  resort  to  the  use  of  spectacles  to 
correct  the  tendency  to  near-sightedness  arising  from  the  artificial 
conditions  of  our  civilized  life.  I  believe  the  true  method  is  to  com- 
pel the  eye  to  do  its  work,  and  thus  the  organ  will  in  time  adapt  itself 
to  the  necessities  of  its  new  situation.  If  the  eye  gets  strained  or 
wearied  by  the  necessity  of  viewing  near  objects  in  the  daily  routine 
of  life,  let  the  person  go  out  into  the  fields  and  among  the  hills,  and 
rest  it  by  the  contemplation  of  natural  scenery.  If  we  resort  too 
early  to  the  use  of  spectacles,  we  encourage  and  increase  the  very  weak- 
ness and  defect  which  we  desire  to  guard  against. 

DR.  ALLEMAN,  in  closing,  said  that,  in  presenting  the  theory  that  the 
eye  was  evolved  from  certain  opaque  pigments  deposited  in  certain 
parts  of  the  skin,  he  had  offered  the  only  explanation  of  the  evolution 
'of  the  eye  with  which  he  was  acquainted.  He  failed  to  see  that  Dr. 
Gould  had  presented  a  more  plausible  theory.  We  must  guard  against 
those  theories  which  do  not  explain  anything  scientifically — which  are 
merely  confessions  of  our  ignorance.  Replying  to  Mr.  Warner,  he 
said,  if  we  could  betake  ourselves  to  the  woods  and  lead  an  out-of-door 
life  we  could,  doubtless,  get  along  without  spectacles,  but  in  the  pres- 
ent state  of  civilization  that  solution  of  the  difficulty  is  hardly  pos- 
sible. 


THE 

EVOLUTION  OF  ART 


BY 

JOHN  A.  TAYLOR 

AUTHOR  OF  THE  EVOLUTION  OP  THE  STATE,   ETC. 


COLLATERAL  READINGS  SUGGESTED: 

Taine's  Philosophy  of  Art,  and  Piske's  review  of  the  same  in  The 
Unseen  World ;  Liibke's  History  of  Art ;  Reber's  History  of  Ancient 
Art,  and  History  of  Mediaeval  Art ;  Freeman's  Effects  of  the  Norman 
Conquest  on  Art,  in  History  of  the  Norman  Conquest ;  Article  art,  in 
Encyclopaedia  Britannica ;  John  Stuart  Mill's  Logic  and  Essay  on  Art. 


THE  EVOLUTION  OF  ART. 

BY  JOHN  A.  TAYLOR. 

THE  continuing  wonder  of  mankind  is  man.  What  he 
has  achieved  in  the  past  is  at  once  the  inspiration  and  the 
harbinger  of  what  he  shall  achieve  in  the  future. 

The  history  of  human  effort  is  briefer  than  we  are  wont 
to  realize.  Speaking  within  the  chronicles  of  recorded  his- 
tory, more  has  been  produced  by  man  during  the  past  five 
centuries  of  the  hundreds  of  thousands  of  years  during 
which  he  has  walked  upright  upon  the  earth  than  during 
all  the  previous  period.  Indeed,  it  might  be  possible  to 
demonstrate  that  the  century  now  entering  upon  its  last 
decade  has  witnessed  the  creation  of  more  potent  instru- 
ments of  human  advancement  than  all  its  predecessors  com- 
bined. And,  in  the  broadest  sense  in  which  it  is  permitted 
to  speak  of  art,  it  may  be  safely  asserted  that  at  no  age  of 
the  world  has  human  effort  been  more  abundantly  crowned 
with  success  than  in  the  present. 

Art  is  the  consummate  product  of  the  human  being.  It 
presents  itself  as  the  result  of  all  the  knowledge  of  the 
past,  of  all  the  opportunities  of  the  present,  and  its  possi- 
bilities for  the  future  constitute  one  of  the  chiefest  motives 
for  human  effort. 

Nature  is  the  great  laboratory  in  which  stands  man,  the 
chemist.  Her  laws  are  all  about  him,  her  substances  are 
his  to  mold  and  combine,  her  glorious  skies  bend  over  him 
to  thrill  his  soul  with  images  of  beauty,  her  abundant  har- 
vests sustain  his  waning  strength,  her  violent  catastrophes 
set  limitations  to  his  ambition.  What  he  shall  do  with 
these  supplies  at  hand  has  measured,  and  will  forever  meas- 
ure, his  own  creative  skill.  And  yet  all  the  grandeur  and 
beauty  of  Nature  are,  in  a  sense,  subservient  to  the  adaptive 
skill  of  man.  Mr.  Chadwick,  in  an  off-hand  speech,  not 
long  since,  said :  "  Not  what  he  can  get  out  of  it,  but  what 
he  puts  into  it,  is  what  makes  a  good  artist."  And  is  it  not 
this  creative  power  which  has  had  most  to  do  with  the 
evolution  of  the  race  ? 

Was  there  not  much  truth  in  the  enthusiastic  outburst  of 
21 


298  The  Evolution  of  Art. 

Tickler  in  that  remarkable  symposium  on  nature  and  art 
which  is  one  of  the  most  pleasing  of  all  the  Noctes  Am- 
brosianas :  "  Who  planted  those  trees  by  that  river-side  ? 
Art !  "Who  pruned  them  ?  Art !  Who  gave  room  to  their 
great  arms  to  span  that  roaring  chasm  ?  Art !  Who 
reared  yon  edifice  on  the  cliff?  Art!  Is  that  a  hermit's 
cell?  Art  scooped  it  out  of  the  living  stone.  Is  that  an 
oratory?  Art  smoothed  the  floor  for  the  knee  of  the  peni- 
tent. Are  the  bones  of  the  holy  slumbering  in  that  ceme- 
tery ?  Art  changed  the  hollow  rock  into  a  tomb,  and  when 
the  dead  saint  was  laid  into  the  sepulchre,  Art  joined  its 
music  with  the  torrent's  roar,  and  the  mingled  anthem 
rose  to  the  stars  which  Art  had  numbered." 

When  we  contemplate  the  numberless  seons  during  which 
our  progenitors  lived  and  walked  among  the  most  majestic 
scenes  of  Nature,  and  remember  that  none  of  the  great  di- 
visions of  the  fine  arts  have  flourished  much  beyond  a  score 
of  centuries,  we  must  admit  that  it  is  in  the  growth  and 
development  of  human  art  that  the  great  elements  of 
progress  have  found  their  most  efficient  exposition. 

The  relation  of  art  to  Nature  is,  in  great  part,  that  of  an 
interpreter.  "  Art  performs  the  same  office  for  the  mind," 
says  Jarvis,  "  that  speech  does  for  the  ear.  It  is  a  variety 
of  language,  sometimes  requiring  sound,  as  in  music,  for  its 
alphabet ;  form,  as  in  sculpture ;  and  form  and  color  com- 
bined, as  in  painting."  From  the  picture-writing  of  the 
earlier  Egyptians  to  the  slave-ship  of  Turner,  the  one  object 
of  the  artist  is  to  communicate  his  new  thought  to  the  ob- 
server. Century  after  century,  mankind  lacking  this  inter- 
pretation have  groped  blindly  along,  entangling  themselves 
more  and  more  in  the  complex  web  of  human  passion  and 
desire,  until  at  great  epochs  the  great  interpreter  has  arisen 
who  has  sung  the  song,  builded  the  temple,  painted  the 
picture,  carved  the  statue,  or  written  the  poem  which  has 
riven  the  cloud  of  ignorance  and  engraved  his  name  among 
the  great  artists  of  his  century.  In  the  broadest  sense,  all 
such  are  artists.  Whoever  creates,  whether  in  the  field  of 
fancy,  art,  science,  religion,  statecraft,  or  war;  whoever 
shows  a  new  method,  discloses  a  new  beauty,  contributes  a 
new  impulse  to  his  fellow,  is  an  artist. 

The  poorly-equipped  peasant  walks,  perhaps,  for  thirty 
years  beneath  a  midnight  sky  and  never  looks  higher  than 
the  low  thatched  roof  of  his  cabin.  Whoever  points  him  to 
the  glittering  pageantry  above  and  reveals  to  him  the 


The  Evolution  of  Art.  299 

matchless  beauty  of  the  stars  is  an  artist.  The  lesson  may 
come  to  him  from  the  trite  couplet  of  an  old  Greek  poet ; 
it  may  shine  out  from  the  glowing  canvas  of  a  Titian ;  it 
may  be  born  in  the  fervor  of  eloquent  speech — if  only  he 
be  lifted  up  to  see  the  new  beauty,  to  be  possessed  of  the 
new  thought,  the  true  artist  has  done  his  work.  Nature 
has  found  for  him  its  interpreter ;  thenceforward  he  is 
more  reverent  toward  her;  all  her  ways  take  forms  of 
lasting  beauty  in  his  sight ;  he  has  been  shown  the  way. 

Using  the  term  art,  then,  in  its  broadest  signification, 
the  evolution  of  art  would  be  commensurate  with  that  of 
man,  since  what  man  has  done  constitutes  the  all  of  human 
history.  So  competent  an  authority  as  Sydney  Colvin  has 
said  that  art  comprises  "  every  regulated  operation  or  dex- 
terity by  which  organized  beings  pursue  ends  which  they 
know  beforehand,  together  with  the  rules  and  the  result  of 
every  such  operation  or  dexterity." 

The  art  of  war,  the  art  of  government,  the  art  of  wor- 
ship, the  inventive  arts,  the  art  of  navigation,  the  fine  arts 
of  music,  poetry,  painting,  sculpture,  and  architecture,  all 
are  within  the  definition.  Most  intimately  connected  with 
all  these  latter  arts  are  those  of  government  and  invention, 
as  affecting  the  environment,  which,  encircling  man  at  dif- 
ferent stages  of  his  history,  have  constituted  important 
modifications  of  his  creative  skill.  It  will  be  assumed, 
however,  that  our  inquiry  this  evening  is  to  be  confined 
to  palpable  art  creation  as  represented  in  one  of  the  five 
great  departments  of  human  skill,  the  exercise  of  which 
finds  embodiment  in  a  symphony,  a  painting,  a  statue,  a 
building,  or  a  poem.  All  these  will  be  found  to  be  abso- 
lutely determined  in  their  results  by  the  controlling  ideals 
of  the  artists,  and  these  in  turn  to  be  largely  modified  by 
contemporaneous  wants. 

At  the  outset  let  us  observe  that  all  the  arts  are  depend- 
ent upon  two  classes  of  persons  for  their  existence  and  sur- 
vival— namely,  artists  and  art-lovers.  The  one  can  not  exist 
without  the  other.  The  last  man  in  the  world  will  neither 
write,  sing,  paint,  carve,  nor  build.  Demosthenes,  training 
his  voice  at  the  shore  of  the  sea,  heard  above  the  tumult- 
uous fury  of  the  breakers  the  swelling  applause  of  Athe- 
nian audiences.  That  was  his  objective  point,  and  all  great 
artists  dedicate  their  work  to  the  art-lovers  of  the  race 
at  large  —  whether  in  alien  states  or  in  generations  un- 
born. And  this  distinction  must  be  kept  in  mind  in  order 


300  The  Evolution  of  Art. 

rightly  to  weigh  or  judge  the  varying  conditions  of  man- 
kind. 

Consider  for  a  moment  the  state  of  government,  the 
habits  of  life,  the  narrow  horizon  of  that  cultivated  people 
who  carried  the  realm  of  taste  in  the  early  age  of  Greece  to 
such  a  height  that  in  all  the  long  centuries  which  have  suc- 
ceeded them  no  more  perfect  conception  has  been  known, 
no  more  skillful  hand  has  executed  than  that  which  buried 
its  identity  in  the  charming  outlines  of  the  Venus  of  Milo, 
so  that  in  an  age  which  boasts  of  the  elevation  of  its  masses 
and  the  erudition  of  its  scholars,  which  has  cloven  the  bed 
of  ocean  for  the  passage  of  its  thought,  its  most  hopeful 
students  of  art  are  sitting  at  the  feet  of  artists  dead  for  two 
thousand  years,  and  are  faithfully  copying  the  clear  lines 
and  proportions  of  the  human  form  laid  down  for  them  on 
the  banks  of  the  Mediterranean  centuries  before  the  Christ- 
ian era. 

There  also  had  thriven  painting,  poetry,  and  architect- 
ure, and  the  race  that  crowded  the  halls  of  the  Parthenon 
at  its  dedication  had  heard  for  fifteen  generations  the  mel- 
low Grecian  syllables  of  Homer  repeated  in  all  its  house- 
holds. 

Now,  this  people  was  largely  an  enslaved  race;  their 
inventive  genius  was  still  slumbering ;  the  husbandmen  of 
that  day  plowed,  sowed,  and  reaped  with  the  rudest  devices ; 
the  most  limited  forms  of  communication  existed ;  commun- 
ion with  the  outer  world,  and  especially  with  other  nation- 
alities, hardly  existed  at  all.  No  true  conceptions  of  state- 
craft were  known  to  their  rulers.  They  had  no  dealings 
with  humanity  in  the  aggregate.  A  few  independent  cities, 
allied  by  the  most  slender  threads  of  mutual  interest,  consti- 
tuted their  entire  state.  Their  habits  of  life  were  of  the 
simplest  kind.  Their  moral  culture  was  at  so  low  an  ebb 
that  they  banished  the  wisest  man  among  them  from  their 
chiefest  city  because  they  were  tired  of  hearing  him  called 
the  just.  And  yet  the  universal  consensus  of  cultivated  peo- 
ple is  that  in  beauty  of  outline,  in  matchless  expression,  in 
absolute  perfection  of  delineation,  their  art  stands  unap- 
proachable as  yet  in  the  history  of  the  Avorld. 

What,  then,  was  the  producing  cause  of  their  creative 
effort?  Let  it  be  noticed  first  that  the  achievements  of 
this  age  were  valued  by  a  limited  class  of  people.  It  is  pos- 
sible that  not  a  hundred  thousand  Grecians  ever  saw  all 
the  great  works  of  art  which  came  from  the  cunning  hands 


The  Evolution  of  Art.  301 

of  Scopas,  Lysippus,  or  Polycleitus  during  the  lives  of  the 
artists,  and  of  these,  few,  perhaps  none,  had  any  concep- 
tion of  the  posthumous  glory  which  was  to  immortalize 
the  names  of  men  then  walking  in  their  midst,  and  the 
principal  feature  of  the  situation,  as  it  impresses  one  who 
searches  for  the  impulse  to  this  art,  will  be  seen  to  be 
that  it  met  the  current  demand  of  the  ruling  sources  of 
power. 

The  upper  life  of  Greece  was  given  over  to  sensuous  de- 
light and  to  one  phase  of  that  ambition — that  of  form.  It 
was  reserved  for  the  Roman  artist  to  glut  the  senses  of  a 
later  people  with  the  glowing  hues  of  the  canvas.  Rubens, 
Titian,  and  Raphael  were  to  make  the  coming  centuries 
radiant  with  their  brilliant  devices  of  color,  but  the  luxury 
of  the  Greek  delighted  itself  with  graceful  flowing  out- 
lines. The  balmy  atmosphere,  the  languid  temperature, 
the  softly  breathing  winds  from  the  -<Egean  waters,. were 
an  ever-present  inspiration  to  well-rounded  shapes,  and 
the  artist  of  that  time  studied  industriously  the  human 
form  and  wrought  with  such  matchless  cunning  that  the 
demand  of  his  generation  congealed  into  the  simple,  grace- 
ful beauty  of  the  disentombed  statues  of  the  Greek  tem- 
ples. 

And  yet  for  fifteen  centuries  before  the  walls  of  the  Par- 
thenon rose  in  that  golden  age  of  Pericles,  when  Phidias — 
sculptor,  artist,  and  architect — was  rearing  his  monuments 
of  wonder  and  beauty,  there  had  stood  on  the  banks  of  the 
sluggish  Nile  the  most  colossal  product  of  human  hands,  and 
two  hundred  years  after  the  walls  of  the  Parthenon  were  to 
be  shattered  by  gunpowder  the  prying  eyes  of  the  present 
century  were  to  explore  for  the  first  time  the  hidden  recesses 
of  the  Egyptian  pyramids.  But,  if  we  seek  for  the  beginnings 
of  art,  we  shall  wander  back  into  the  age  of  myths  and 
romances. 

It  is  impossible  for  any  historian,  archaeologist,  or  evolu- 
tionist to  assert  as  an  established  proposition  that  what  we 
call  civilization  has  not  attained  heights  in  the  past  far  be- 
yond the  possibilities  of  the  present  to  conceive ;  and  even 
the  signal  products  of  art  which  are  preserved  to  us  may  be 
but  the  lesser  productions  of  some  preceding  age,  the  glories 
and  beauties  of  which  are  locked  deep  in  the  foundations 
of  the  earth.  No  greater  error  can  be  made  than  to  consider 
our  own  as  the  apex  age  of  the  world  ;  for,  however  humili- 
ating may  be  the  fact,  candor  must  compel  us  to  admit  at 


302  The  Evolution  of  Art. 

the  outset  that  in  architects,  sculptors,  painters,  poets,  and 
musicians  the  centuries  already  closed  stand  pre-eminently 
above  the  present  epoch. 

What  greater  names  have  we  to-day  than  "Wren  in  archi- 
tecture, Mozart  in  music,  Shakespeare  in  poetry,  and  Rem- 
brandt in  painting?  This  is  not  to  say  that  the  artistic 
sense  is  not  to-day  far  more  widely  spread  than  in  any  pre- 
vious age.  Rather  it  is  to  say  that  when  we  speak  of  the 
evolution  of  art  we  are  recognizing  that  the  knowledge  of 
art  has  grown,  that  its  borders  have  increased,  that  its  area 
of  influence  has  widened.  It  is  not  to  say  that  by  any  known 
processes  of  nature  or  of  human  conduct  the  great  artist 
has  been  brought  forth  as  a  clearly  discerned  effect  from  an 
all-sufficient  cause  ;  for  nothing  in  science,  religion,  or  evo- 
lution has  ever  been  able  to  uproot  the  old  Roman  aphorism 
as  to  the  birth  of  poets. 

The  true  theory  undoubtedly  is  that  the  exceptional  man 
of  any  age  has  set  the  ideal  not  only  for  his  contemporaries, 
but  many  times  for  the  centuries  to  come.  It  is  the  art- 
lovers  who  are  increasing  even  though  the  colossal  artists 
are  becoming  less  frequent.  And  this  limitation  must  be 
kept  in  mind  in  considering  for  a  moment  the  relation  of 
art  to  civilization. 

Civilization  must  be  measured  in  the  last  analysis  by  the 
extent  of  its  influence  upon  the  largest  number  of  human 
beings.  The  civilization  which  is  of  value  to  mankind  at 
large  is  not  that  which  carries  a  select  few  nearest  heaven, 
but  that  which  lifts  the  ignorant  mass  farthest  from  earth. 
The  true  relation  of  civilization  to  art,  then,  has  been  to 
increase  its  admirers,  to  extend  its  audience,  to  make  pos- 
sible new  but  not  greater  masters  by  bringing  to  its  pro- 
moters larger  accessions  of  people.  The  advantages  of  the 
last  two  centuries  have  manifestly  been  not  to  overtop  the 
great  artists  of  the  past,  but  to  greatly  multiply  their  dis- 
ciples and  admirers  and  thereby  elevate  and  dignify  the 
esthetic  quality  in  humanity. 

Take  an  illustration  from  our  own  country.  In  1790 
Franklin  presented  the  first  petition  to  Congress  to  abolish 
slavery.  In  1792  "Whitney  invented  the  cotton-gin.  Then 
began  a  contest  between  a  principle  of  human  rights  and  a 
product  of  human  art.  The  art  thrived,  the  right  was  over- 
come. The  nation,  bent  on  keeping  alive,  approved  the  one 
and  ignored  the  other,  but  the  seed  of  right,  long  dormant, 
blossomed  into  war  and  fruited  in  victory.  The  money- 


The  Evolution  of  Art.  303 

getting  power  of  the  cottou-gin  had  given  way  to  the  moral 
power  of  righting  a  great  wrong. 

While  such  a  contest  was  raging  in  a  new  land  with  lives 
to  preserve  and  fortunes  to  gain  and  maintain,  is  it  any 
wonder  that  the  fields  of  the  highest  arts  were  sterile,  the 
fountains  of  beauty  ran  dry,  and  the  deep-thinking  man  of 
the  present  can  find  no  phenomenal  greatness  in  its  artists  ? 
Even  now  we  are  sustaining,  by  the  wisdom  of  our  national 
legislature,  the  Chinese  wall  against  foreign  paintings  and 
sculpture  which  our  fathers  timidly  reared.  Let  us  not  be 
deceived.  We  must  look  for  our  great  artists — in  heaven. 

The  prevailing  tendency  in  our  country  to-day  is  one  of 
practical  betterment  in  goods  and  estates.  It  is  the  fame  of 
the  soldier,  the  wealth  of  the  millionaire,  and  the  power  of 
the  politician  that  captivates  the  eye  of  our  growing  youth. 
The  press  and  the  pulpit  are  disputing  supremacy,  not  in 
the  realms  of  classic  art,  but  in  the  arena  of  commanding 
results,  and  the  results  to  be  commanded  are  safety  in  gov- 
ernment, safety  hereafter,  economy  in  the  management  of 
public  affairs,  and  such  a  development  and  extension  of  the 
facilities  of  money-getting  as  will  most  largely  benefit  the 
common  people.  The  daily  aim  and  object  of  the  average 
citizen  of  the  world  in  this  present  year  1891  is  to  get  above 
his  fellows  in  power,  and  power  with  a  vast  majority  means 
money.  The  overburdened  tax-payer  cares  not  who  is 
mayor  of  his  city  so  long  as  his  tax-rate  is  lowered.  Four 
centuries  before  Christ  the  citizens  of  Cnidus  were  offered 
by  Nicomedes  the  discharge  of  their  entire  debt  in  exchange 
for  a  statue  which  Praxiteles  had  created,  but  they  kept  the 
statue.  What  works  of  art  in  any  of  our  great  cities  would 
weigh  for  a  moment  in  value,  taken  together,  against  its 
debt,  in  the  opinion  of  its  suffrage-brokers  ? 

To  this  end  the  thrifty  arts  are  those  which  obtain  a 
market — the  useful  arts,  as  the  authorities  classify  them. 
The  man  who  can  invent  the  liveliest  egg-beater  rides  in  his 
carriage,  while  the  artist,  from  the  soft  eyes  of  whose  crea- 
tion the  soul  of  centuries  shines,  walks  afoot,  content  if  he 
be  allowed  his  modest  share  of  the  king's  highway.  A 
patent  car-coupler,  a  talking-machine,  increasing  a  hundred- 
fold the  contact  of  man  with  man,  putting  vast  continents 
in  touch  with  one  another  across  intervening  oceans,  carries 
with  it  the  capital  prizes  of  wealth  and  honor,  and  the 
mean  soul  who  has  nothing  to  offer  but  the  perpetuation  of 
some  phase  of  natural  beauty  on  his  canvas  sits  hungering 


304  The  Evolution  of  Art. 

in  his  dingy  garret,  wondering  why  his  benefactor,  the  tariff- 
tinker,  does  not  protect  him  better. 

I  have  said  that  art  is  the  interpreter  of  Nature.  The 
primal  medium  of  this  interpretation  is  imitation.  Burke 
says :  "  No  work  of  art  can  be  great  but  as  it  deceives ;  to  be 
otherwise  is  the  prerogative  of  Nature  only." 

He  that  has  looked  farthest  into  the  material  heart  of  the 
world  shall  most  correctly  interpret  her  secrets.  A  writer 
of  prominence  has  said  that  "  Purcell,  Handel,  and  Bach 
wrote  every  combination  of  musical  notes  that  down  to  our 
latest  times  has  ever  been  employed  with  good  effect,"  and 
yet  the  last  of  them  has  been  dead  more  than  a  hundred 
years ;  and  Jarvis  has  said  that  "  all  that  is  noblest  in  art 
took  its  origin  in  the  thirteenth  century." 

It  is  the  first  necessity  of  our  improvement  in  art,  to 
clear  the  way  for  our  great  artist,  if  he  is  ever  to  be,  that 
we  shall  frankly  disassociate  our  artistic  genius  from  the  de- 
ceiving glamour  of  the  national  ensign.  What  callow  youth 
in  America  does  not  feel  the  insignificance  of  Ruskin  when 
he  writes  in  Fors  Clavigera  that  "  though  I  have  kind  invita- 
tions enough  to  visit  America,  I  could  not,  even  for  a  couple 
of  months,  live  in  a  country  so  miserable  as  to  possess  no 
castles  "  ?  And  with  what  pride  he  turns  to  the  divinity  of 
Shakespeare,  who  consoles  him  with  the  gracious  aphorism 
that  "  the  art  of  our  necessities  is  strange  that  can  make  vile 
things  precious  " !  And  yet  Buskin  might  well  be  referred 
to  an  older  country  than  his  own — Japan — where  the  temple 
of  Todaiji,  older  than  any  cathedral  in  Europe,  retains,  al- 
most unimpaired,  the  perfection  of  its  structure  and  the 
brilliancy  of  its  decoration. 

But  is  there  not  something  beneath  the  gibe  of  Ruskin 
that  rankles  of  reality  ?  Is  there  not  a  background  of  ex- 
perience and  of  history,  of  storied  memories  and  regnant 
battle  scenes,  as  necessary  to  the  loins  out  of  which  a  great 
artist  is  to  spring  as  to  the  finished  product  of  a  Claude 
Lorrain  ?  If  we  believe  with  Charles  Sumner  that  "  that 
quality  or  characteristic  called  experience  is  the  highest  ele- 
ment of  art,"  can  we  not  well  understand  that  the  humanity 
of  ages  past  must  look  out  from  the  painter's  pigment  if  it 
is  to  catch  the  eye  of  the  true  lover  of  art  ? 

The  germs  of  high  art,  then,  have  been  lying  latent  in  the 
soil  of  all  the  centuries,  and  have  been  hindered,  encour- 
aged, overwhelmed,  and  developed  by  the  fundamental  ele- 


The  Evolution  of  Art.  305 

ments  of  manhood  in  association.  We  have  high  authority 
for  asserting  that  "  the  appreciation  of  art  and  the  art  im- 
pulse are  inherent  in  the  nature  of  man,  and  are  not  the 
products  of  civilization."  If,  as  Taine  observes,  "  a  work 
of  art  is  determined  by  a  condition  of  things  combining  all 
surrounding  social  and  intellectual  influences,"  then  the 
quality  of  the  artist  himself  should  be  largely  affected  by 
these  changing  conditions. 

Perhaps  some  light  may  come  to  us  in  following  this 
theme  by  considering  a  little  more  carefully  the  sources  of 
art. 

"We  have  already  found  that  the  arsenal  of  the  artist  is 
furnished  by  Nature.  She  is  the  tutelary  saint  entitled  to 
his  grateful  worship.  But  the  inspiration  that  informs  the 
pencil  or  the  chisel  of  the  artist,  whence  comes  it  ?  Why 
does  Correggio  outshine  Guido,  or  each  of  these  another  ?  So 
long  as  artists  have  painted,  sung,  or  builded,  Nature  has 
lain  before  them  in  the  same  transcendent  beauty.  The 
limpid  moonlit  stream  which  the  poet  and  the  artist  of  every 
age  have  striven  to  re-create  was  running  clear  and  shining 
in  the  ages  long  before  the  Sphinx,  and  tells  its  enchanting 
story  anew  to  every  succeeding  generation.  Whatever  new 
standards  in  other  things  have  been  erected,  the  copy-book 
of  Nature  remains  substantially  the  same.  Is  it  not  then 
safe  to  conclude  that  there  is  something  beside  the  imitator 
and  the  imitated  which  largely  modifies  the  resulting  work 
of  art  ? 

Mr.  Taine  says :  "  If  we  pass  in  review  the  principal 
epochs  of  the  history  of  art,  we  find  the  arts  appearing  and 
disappearing  with  certain  accompanying  social  and  intel- 
lectual conditions."  It  must  be  clear  that  while  men  were 
in  the  savage  or  even  pastoral  stage  of  living,  no  want  of 
art  was  felt.  It  was  only  when  a  fixity'  of  abode  had  been 
determined  upon  that  any  of  the  fine  arts  began  to  develop. 
The  demand  for  shelter  was  the  first  necessity,  out  of  which 
came  in  time  Westminster  Abbey.  Two  upright  posts,  per- 
haps the  stumps  of  trees,  supporting  as  a  rude  lintel  a  log 
thrown  across,  was  the  first  step  taken  toward  the  Coliseum 
of  Rome,  covering  its  eighty  thousand  people. 

Given,  then,  the  artist  born,  his  ear  attuned  to  Nature,  his 
imagination  kindling  at  her  suggestive  mysteries,  his  heart 
throbbing  responsively  to  all  the  sweet  influences  of  her 
great  magazine  of  forces,  still  the  product  of  his  art  is  to 
be  largely  modified  and  its  ultimate  evolution  to  be  pre- 


306  The  Evolution  of  Art. 

scribed  by  his  environment,  and  it  is  the  evolution  of  this 
environment  with  which  we  are  chiefly  interested.  Four 
great  controlling  influences  will  be  seen  to  be  effective  in 
shaping  it — religion,  government,  locality,  and  the  prevail- 
ing judgment  of  the  time. 

Let  us  consider  these  separately. 

Taking,  in  the  first  instance,  religion,  it  will  be  found 
that  it  has  furnished  at  times  the  only  opportunity  for  art 
to  live.  Letters,  architecture,  poetry,  sculpture,  and  music, 
like  the  hunted  criminal  of  the  early  centuries,  all  found 
sanctuary  at  her  shrine.  True,  she  has  imposed  in  many  in- 
stances the  most  morbid  conditions  on  the  sons  of  genius. 
Michael  Angelo,  ordered  by  Leo  X  to  quarry  with  his  own 
hands  the  Pope's  monument,  comes  down  to  posterity  him- 
self immortalized,  the  Pope  forgotten.  So  out  of  joint  was 
he  with  the  times  in  which  he  lived  that  it  is  no  wonder 
that  he  wrote  upon  the  pedestal  of  his  sleeping  statue — 

"  Sleep  is  sweet,  and  yet  more  sweet  it  is  to  be  of  stone 
while  shame  and  misery  last." 

And  Eaphael,  compelled  by  the  same  pope  to  interpolate 
the  burly  pontifical  figure  into  his  matchless  fresco  in  the 
Vatican,  is  heir  to  all  the  greatness  of  his  deed.  And  while 
we  may  not  believe  that  Dalmasio,  an  early  painter  of  Bo- 
logna, gained  art  efficacy  by  fasting  every  day  while  paint- 
ing the  Holy  Virgin,  yet  the  Church  as  a  conservator  of  art 
must  be  given  credit  for  offering  the  opportunities  which 
she  undoubtedly  has  to  the  earnest  art  creator. 

To  the  Church,  indeed,  we  are  almost  exclusively  indebted 
for  the  evolution  of  the  Gothic  type  of  architecture,  from 
the  simple  pediment  of  the  Grecian  temples  to  the  great 
cathedrals  of  Europe.  And  while  religion  protected  the 
artist  by  its  strong  and  effective  patronage,  it  also  furnished 
the  opportunity  for  widening  the  scope  of  his  genius.  The 
mysterious  ruins  at  Stonehenge  are  supposed  to  have  been 
the  meeting  places  of  a  rude  people  for  religious  rites.  Nor 
was  it  only  in  the  art  of  building  that  religion  has  been  pre- ' 
servative,  not  to  say  productive,  of  the  works  of  genius.  The 
wonderful  frescos  that  glorify  the  roofs  of  her  Florentine 
chapels ;  the  statues  that  dignify  her  great  cathedrals ;  the 
majestic  poetry  of  Job ;  the  sweet  songs  of  David,  and  the 
glowing  fervor  of  many  a  Hebrew  scripture,  have  all  been 
preserved  to  us  by  various  religious  sects.  The  curiously 
carved  wooden  temples  of  India ;  the  imposing  monolithic 
structures  of  Egypt ;  the  quiet,  simple  beauty  of  the  Grecian 


The  Evolution  of  Art.  307 

porches  that  dignified  the  approaches  to  the  summit  of  the 
Acropolis,  alike  attest  the  intimate  dependence  of  art  upon 
the  patronage  of  the  worshipful  impulse  in  man. 

And  may  it  not  be  asserted  with  equal  truth  that  to-day 
the  commanding  influence  of  the  mother  Church  is  largely 
dependent  in  turn  upon  the  art  creations  of  which  she  so 
freely  avails  herself  ?  He  who,  susceptible  to  deep  religious 
awe,  enters  some  great  cathedral  of  to-day,  is  divided  in 
homage  between  his  supernatural  sense  of  the  divine  pres- 
ence and  his  appreciative  delight  of  that  which  the  cun- 
ning skill  of  human  art  has  devised  for  its  embellishment. 
Poetry  marries  itself  to  music  in  the  deep-swelling  harmony 
and  rhythmic  flow  of  sentences  which  answer  from  the  organ 
loft  above  to  the  dim  recesses  of  the  chancel  in  the  apse. 
The  deeply  groined  roof,  planned  by  the  skillful  architect, 
is  glowing  far  above  with  the  transcendent  brilliancy  of  the 
sunlight  which  brings  in  strong  relief  the  enchanting  figures 
of  departed  saints  with  which  the  painter  has  crowded  the 
stained  windows  of  the  clearstory.  From  all  these  brilliant 
accessories  of  art,  does  not  the  belief  of  the  actual  presence 
of  the  Christ  in  the  wine  and  water  of  the  host  derive  much 
of  its  supernatural  conviction,  and  would  not  the  same  cere- 
monies, transferred  to  the  barren  simplicity  of  a  Quaker 
church,  lose  much  of  their  influence  upon  man's  emotional 
nature  ? 

However  this  may  be,  the  fact  remains  that  in  no  age,  at 
least  of  the  Christian  era,  has  the  Church  divorced  from 
her  services  the  aid  of  art.  And  if  time  sufficed,  it  might 
be  approximately  demonstrated  that  this  art  environment 
has  in  all  ages  been  largely  shaped  and  colored  by  the  domi- 
nant religion  of  its  time. 

The  huge  monolithic  temples  and  excavatory  tombs  of 
ancient  Persia  were  the  tangible  expression  of  their  simple 
pagan  beliefs,  and  the  wonderful  temple  at  Karnak,  on 
whose  rugged  pylon,  sixteen  centuries  before  the  Christ  was 
born,  Thothmes  the  Third  had  carved  the  history  of  his  mili- 
tary expeditions,  and  within  whose  spacious  outlines  two 
cathedrals  as  large  as  St.  Peter's  of  Rome  could  be  builded 
— represented  faithfully  the  prevailing  temper  of  that  the- 
ology which  dedicated  its  walls  to  Chons,  the  Deity  who 
possessed  the  highly  convenient  attribute  of  expelling  evil. 
There  was  no  room  in  an  age  when  the  millions  were  bur- 
den-bearers, and  the  few  wearers  of  purple,  for  art  to  lift 
itself  toward  heaven,  and  to  these  people  was  unknown  the 


308  The  Evolution  of  Art. 

pediment  or  arch  in  architecture,  meter  or  rhythm  in  poetry, 
or  harmony  in  music. 

All  the  noteworthy  products  of  Gothic  architecture  date 
their  origin  less^  than  five  _  centuries  ago,  and  found  their 
opportunity  and  inspiration  in  the  great  established  churches 
of  their  periods.  Indeed,  we  have  the  best  of  authority  for 
asserting  that  secular  art  was  comparatively  unknown  until 
the  seventeenth  century. 

This  brings  us  to  notice  the  second  element  of  art 
environment — namely,  government.  An  absolute  form  of 
government  deputed  the  power  to  fix  authoritatively  the 
fashion  of  the  time  to  the  monarch.  It  likewise  furnished 
him  exclusively  the  revenues  of  the  realm  to  execute  such 
conceptions  of  art  as  his  fancy  chose  to  promote.  Thus  it 
was  that  art  was  degraded  by  the  selfish  vanity  of  Eomish 
popes,  and  the  artist  was  only  permitted  to  survive  upon  a 
slavish  complaisance  with  the  caprices  of  power. 

The  vacillating  Dryden,  tuning  the  lyre  of  his  melliflu- 
ous poetry  to  the  changing  dynasties  of  Puritan  Cromwell 
and  Episcopal  Charles,  is  an  instance  among  poets  of  this 
controlling  power ;  and  wherever  the  people  have  been  free 
to  choose,  with  the  added  capacity  of  knowing  how  to  choose, 
there  the  artistic  sense  has  reached  its  highest  development. 

There  can  be  little  doubt  that  the  objects  to  which  the 
creative  and  executive  powers  of  man  are  devoted  have  in- 
creased in  diversity  and  importance  with  the  growth  of 
civilization,  and,  upon  familiar  rules  of  evolution,  this  should 
have  resulted  in  an  increase  in  the  complexity  of  the  art 
product.  And  a  modern  writer  of  standing  has  declared 
that  "  the  further  research  is  pursued,  alike  into  the  habits 
of  living  races  of  savages  and  into  the  characteristics  of  the 
oldest  traces  of  primitive  art,  the  more  clearly  becomes 
manifest  a  process  of  development  from  the  first  rude  work- 
ing in  stone  to  the  highest  art  of  the  skilled  metallurgist." 

Clearly,  also,  art  is  dignified  or  disgraced  by  the  objects 
which  it  seeks  to  accomplish,  and  what  these  shall  be  are  al- 
most altogether  determined  by  the  average  good  taste  or 
judgment  of  the  special  time.  Modified  in  large  part  by 
these  considerations,  the  knowledge  of  the  classic  arts  bor- 
rowed from  older  Egypt  increased  and  throve  in  Greece 
and  Eome.  Sometimes  it  followed  in  the  wake  of  victories, 
as  when  the  Romans  invaded  the  British  Islands,  and  again 
it  survived  the  defeat  of  cultured  people,  as  when  Rome, 
conquering  the  Athenian  cities,  discovered  her  imperishable 


The  Evolution  of  Art.  309 

arts — arts  which  long  after  survived  the  devastation  of  Eome 
herself  by  the  barbarous  Northmen. 

Engulfed  in  the  general  ruin  of  the  middle  ages,  it  came 
to  new  glory  in  the  latter  centuries,  always  and  everywhere 
determining  the  real  status  of  art. 

Of  locality  as  an  environment,  it  may  be  further  observed 
that  it  has  largely  modified  art  by  prescribing  its  objects  and 
limiting  its  possibilities.  The  northern  half  of  Germany 
being  devoid  of  stone,  all  its  buildings  of  magnitude  are 
composed  of  brick,  which  constitutes  a  limit  of  material. 
Obviously  in  warm  countries  the  less  substantial  structures 
of  wood  would  meet  all  immediate  necessities,  while  in  tem- 
perate zones,  like  our  own,  the  fullest  scope  for  material  of 
all  kinds  would  be  furnished. 

A  fourth  element  of  art  environment  has  been  mentioned 
as  the  prevailing  judgment  of  the  time.  This  must  be  seen 
at  once  to  be  largely  determined  by  the  auxiliary  conditions 
of  science,  the  minor  arts,  and  especially  the  arts  preserva- 
tive and  distributive  of  art  productions.  Poetry  found  an 
expansive  outlet  in  the  art  of  printing ;  architecture,  paint- 
ing, and  sculpture  in  the  various  inventions  by  which  the 
stability  of  nations  has  been  increased  or  the  products  of 
art  distributed.  Science,  "  upon  which,"  says  Spencer,  "  the 
highest  art  of  every  kind  is  based,  and  without  which  there 
can  be  neither  perfect  production  nor  full  appreciation,"  has 
brought,  by  its  development  of  the  skillful  arts,  the  produc- 
tions of  the  great  artists  to  the  knowledge  and  apprehension 
of  all  classes. 

The  subsidiary  arts  of  engraving  and  photography,  espe- 
cially the  perfective  arts  of  chromo-lithographv  and  the 
artotype  process,  have  literally  carried  to  the  firesides  of  the 
poor  the  costly  exclusiveness  of  the  Vatican,  and  there  lie  on 
the  tables  of  more  than  half  of  the  skilled  mechanics  of  the 
world  to-day  more  really  beautiful  art  representations  than 
were  in  the  castles  of  the  English  barons  of  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury. 

While,  then,  we  may  deplore  the  dearth  of  highly  creative 
artistic  genius,  we  must  acknowledge  the  increasing  evolu- 
tion toward  a  more  perfect  apprehension  of  true  art  ideals  of 
the  prevailing  judgment  of  the  time.  The  great  foundation 
stones  of  all  true  art — simplicity,  truth,  expression — long 
buried  by  the  debris  of  decaying  taste  and  a  corrupt  stand- 
ard of  excellence,  are  finding  once  more  an  appreciative 
recognition.  Even  the  necessities  of  commerce  itself  have 


310  The  Evolution  of  Art. 

brought  about  changes  in  standards  of  art  which  have 
found  a  response  in  the  taste  of  the  people.  Whoever  stands 
in  the  City  Hall  Park  of  New  York,  and,  appalled  at  the 
grotesque  ugliness  of  the  Post  Office,  fails  to  understand 
why  the  builder  could  not  have  opened  his  eyes  to  the  simple 
and  chaste  proportions  of  the  City  Hall  across  the  Plaza,  can 
find  a  sure  relief  by  crossing  the  Wall  Street  Ferry  and 
feasting  his  eyes  upon  that  modern  wonder  which  swings  its 
fair  proportions  above  the  vehicles  of  traffic  that  ply  their 
complex  passage  beneath — the  Brooklyn  bridge.  Here  ne- 
cessity, many  times  the  cruel  tyrant  of  art,  has  imposed  condi- 
tions upon  the  builder,  the  result  of  which  has  challenged 
the  artistic  homage  of  the  world.  It  most  effectually  satis- 
fies the  two  great  essentials  of  art — simplicity  and  unity  of  de- 
sign. 

Now,  this  average  judgment  of  the  times,  called  by  some 
good  taste,  is  subject  both  to  complete  submergence,  as  in 
the  centuries  before  the  Renaissance,  and  to  epidemic  dis- 
eases due  to  changing  environment  and  to  sporadic  art- 
fashions. 

Modern  Italian  art,  especially  in  sculpture,  exhibits  one  of 
these,  and  in  our  day  the  rank  contagion  of  an  unnecessary 
realism  in  art  offers  a  conspicuous  illustration.  We  have 
among  us  quite  a  scholastic  contingency,  who  have  fallen  in 
love  with  that  kind  of  interpretation  of  Nature  which  re- 
produces with  photographic  minuteness  all  her  minutiae  of 
incident  and  fact  under  the  plea  that  it  is  a  necessity  of 
truth. 

Tolstoi,  Zola,  and  Whitman,  in  literature,  are  the  apostles 
of  what  seems  to  their  disciples  to  be  a  new  era  in  art,  the 
province  of  which  is  to  tell  some  secret  of  Nature  hitherto 
decorously  concealed.  They  attach  themselves  to  the  real- 
istic school  of  art  and  carry  the  wholesome  doctrine  of  anti- 
sham  production  to  an  extreme  which  would  be  ridiculous 
if  it  were  not  disgusting.  Nothing  is  to  be  left  to  the  im- 
agination of  the  reader.  The  most  offensive  details  of  im- 
morality, the  by  and  forbidden  paths  of  infamy  and  vice, 
are  dragged  festering  to  the  light  of  day,  under  as  conscien- 
tious a  disregard  of  the  decencies  of  society  as  if  the  artists 
had  been  sworn  in  a  court  of  justice  to  tell  the  truth,  the 
whole  truth,  and  nothing  but  the  truth.  Under  the  foster- 
ing protection  of  many  men  of  genius,  our  book-stalls  are 
infected  with  the  vilest  suggestions  of  indecency,  and  pub- 
lishers vie  with  each  other  in  running  as  near  the  condem- 


The  Evolution  of  Art.  311 

nation  of  the  law  as  their  fear  of  its  punishment  will  permit 
them  to  do. 

Now,  let  us  not  ignore  the  facts  of  nature ;  vice,  crime, 
misery,  obscenity,  unfortunately  exist.  Through  the  three- 
score years  of  human  life  they  will  often  enough  protrude 
themselves  as  uninvited  guests  upon  all  of  us,  but  the  heresy 
of  this  school  of  art  is  found  in  its  degradation  of  the  art 
object.  The  notion  that,  for  any  purpose,  or  to  accomplish 
any  end  or  aim  of  true  art-pleasure,  the  artist  should  find 
it  necessary,  or  in  the  least  degree  helpful,  to  draggle  his 
muse  in  the  mire,  is  one  utterly  unsustained  either  by  the 
healthy  intuitions  of  mankind  or  by  empirical  reasoning. 

The  constantly  increasing  effort  of  every  true  disciple  of 
art,  whether  Olympian  creator  or  humble  admirer  is  to  soar 
above  the  limitations  of  to-day  ;  it  is  to  direct  the  impulses 
of  humanity  toward  better  things  and  not  to  call  their  at- 
tention to  meaner,  not  to  say  unclean,  objects  ;  it  is  to  reveal 
to  man  the  benignant  significance  of  Nature  rather  than  to 
invite  his  attention  to  her  morbid  excrescences ;  and  every 
great  artist  who  has  touched  the  heart  of  his  own  or  suc- 
ceeding ages  with  a  commanding  influence  has  used  in  the 
accomplishment  of  his  worthy  purpose  the  chaste  weapons  of 
honor,  truth,  simplicity,  and  sincerity.  He  has  fixed  his  gaze 
upon  the  shining  purity  of  the  Pleiades  rather  than  upon  the 
unhallowed  depths  of  human  weakness  and  crime. 

Is  there  really  so  much  danger  that  the  coming  genera- 
tions shall  be  too  refined  or  virtuous  or  high-minded,  that 
we  must  temper  their  noble  aspirations  with  literature  so 
rankly  questionable  that  it  is  most  safely  placed  on  the 
high  shelves  of  our  libraries  ?  The  alleged  necessity  of  real- 
ism, which,  masquerading  under  the  clean  name  of  truth, 
gluts  itself  >with  the  disgusting  putridities  of  vicious  hearts 
and  vicious  minds,  is  the  product  of  as  diseased  a  condition  of 
the  true  art  impulse  as  it  is  a  subtle  impeachment  of  our 
common  humanity  ;  and  it  finds  its  most  ardent  and  effect- 
ive support,  not  in  the  high-minded  men  who  are  blinded 
by  its  seeming  fidelity  to  the  truths  of  Nature,  but  in  the 
scurvy  camp-followers  of  art,  who  gorge  themselves  upon  the 
offal  which  is  sometimes  created  by  the  mistakes  of  its  mas- 
ters. 

This  school  of  realists  is  by  no  means  new  to  the  fields  of 
art.  The  churches  of  Naples  and  Spain  in  the  sixteenth 
century  colored  and  draped  their  statues.  Jarvis  describes 
a  mosaic  on  the  ceiling  of  the  Baptistery  of  the  Duomo  of 


312  The  Evolution  of  Art. 

Florence,  representing  the  realities  of  a  local  hell-fire  as  fol- 
lows :  "  A  huge  figure  of  Christ  clad  in  robes  of  deep  blue 
and  red,  and  displaying  his  pierced  hands  and  feet,  is  the 
prominent  object;  above  him  is  a  representation  of  the 
Almighty  as  an  old  man  in  a  red  frock  with  a  carefully 
trimmed  beard  holding  the  book  of  life ;  on  each  side  are 
attendant  cherubs  and  seraphs.  Beneath  the  Saviour  is  the 
scene  of  the  resurrection ;  angels  are  helping  the  good  to 
rise  from  out  of  their  tombs  on  his  right  hand,  while  on  his 
left  great  green  devils  with  bat-like  wings  are  eagerly  pulling 
sinners  from  their  graves.  Satan,  as  a  huge  monster  of  like 
color,  is  seen  sitting  in  the  center  of  hell  munching  human 
beings  ;  on  either  side  of  him  are  serpents  and  hideous  imps 
pursuing  the  damned,  who  escape  their  fury  only  by  plung- 
ing into  lakes  of  fire.  Above  the  infernal  regions  the 
apostles  and  saints  sit  in  stiff  rows  with  books  in  their  hands, 
while  archangels  lead  the  saved  in  crowds  to  join  them." 
And  this  was  a  fair  illustration,  adds  the  author,  of  Floren- 
tine art  and  theology  in  the  thirteenth  century. 

Let  it  not  for  a  moment  be  supposed  that  any  word  here 
spoken  is  to  be  taken  as  ignoring  in  any  degree  the  true 
school  of  realists  in  literature  and  art.  Homer,  Shakespeare, 
Dickens,  and  all  the  noble  names  in  literature  were  in  a 
true  sense  realists,  if  by  realism  be  meant  a  faithful  repre- 
sentation of  the  incidents  and  circumstances  of  the  world 
about  them  ;  but  it  is  the  crowning  glory  of  Dickens  that  in 
no  single  paragraph  of  his  voluminous  writings  has  he  found 
it  either  desirable  or  necessary  to  pander  to  the  meretricious 
taste ;  and  the  name  of  Howells,  among  American  realists,  is 
equally  suggestive  of  clarity  and  a  sound  mind.  Mark  it 
well,  friends  :  when  a  teacher  of  the  public  heart  and  mind 
begins  to  discuss  with  himself  the  decency  of  the  scene  or 
illustration  which  he  is  to  employ,  he  is  in  the  same  situation 
with  a  holder  of  public  office  who  finds  himself  splitting 
hairs  as  to  the  right  or  wrong  of  some  proposed  official  action. 
In  the  one  case  as  in  the  other,  the  only  safe  course  to  be 
pursued  is  to  put  under  his  feet  with  a  lofty  scorn  the 
questionable  proceeding,  disenthrall  his  mind  and  heart  from 
the  ignoble  temptation,  and  walk  resolutely  forth  into  the 
clear,  still  air  where  conscience  breathes,  and  where  the  holy 
promptings  of  his  truer  and  better  nature  find  a  responsive 
audience. 

And  now,  without  in  any  sense,  either  complete  or  incom- 
plete, having  demonstrated  how  art  has  grown  to  be  what  it 


Tlie  Evolution  of  Art.  313 

is,  or  through  what  varying  conditions  of  intelligence, 
government,  religion,  or  other  environments  the  products 
of  art  which  bless  and  dignify  our  own  age  have  been  devel- 
oped, we  are  brought  to  the  close  of  our  fifty  minutes'  con- 
sideration of  our  subject. 

Briefly  considered,  it  would  appear  that  the  artist,  by  which 
is  meant  the  art-creator,  is  not  the  product  of  any  known 
cause;  that  he  visits  unbidden  and  unaccounted  for  the 
haunts  of  men ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  the  art-lovers  are 
largely  the  product  of  favoring  or  unfavoring  influences  of 
widely  different  education,  leisure  to  observe,  capacity  to 
value,  and  desire  to  possess  the  products  of  artistic  genius. 
To  the  furnishing  of  this  environment  have  contributed  all 
processes  of  nature,  all  inventive  genius,  all  improvements 
in  mechanism,  all  tendencies  which  shorten  the  hours  of 
necessary  labor,  reveal  to  man  new  opportunities,  or  bring 
within  his  reach  new  art-creations.  Out  of  the  first  neces- 
sities of  man  arose  the  first  products  of  his  hands,  aud  out 
of  this  gratification  of  his  necessities  has  developed  this  in- 
creasing desire,  which  has  been  called  the  "  play- want "  of 
mankind,  for  the  ornamental  as  distinguished  from  the  use- 
ful. It  had  its  rude  beginnings  in  the  uncouth  decoration 
of  the  tattooed  savage,  it  rose  to  sublime  heights  in  the 
Athenian  courts,  it  went  down  in  the  despairing  darkness 
of  the  middle  ages,  it  revived  in  the  glories  of  the  French 
renaissance,  it  was  planted  upon  firm  foundations  in  the 
Elizabethan  age,  it  crossed  the  ocean  to  the  New  "World,  and 
is  to  crown  at  last  its  new  environment  with  ever- widening 
beauty  and  grandeur. 

Seeking  thus  for  the  seeds  of  culture,  refinement,  and 
beauty _  out  of  which  have  blown  the  precious  products  of 
the  artist's  soul,  we  have  found  them  beneath  alien  skies, 
among  foreign  peoples,  and  in  older  times.  It  may  well  be 
worth  our  while  to  ask  of  the  future  what  it  has  in  store  for 
the  latest  home  of  art. 

Seasoning  from  such  premises  as  the  fundamental  doc- 
trines of  evolution  can  furnish,  what  should  the  answer  be  ? 
If  from  any  soil  there  are  to  spring  more  fruitful  products 
of  the  human  mind  than  all  the  past  can  furnish,  here  is 
the  clime,  here  will  be  the  environment.  Art,  in  the  sense 
in  which  we  have  considered  it,  is  the  crowning  product  of 
a  great  people.  He  who  reads  aright  the  labors  of  our 
fathers  must  discern  that  we  have  but  cleared  the  forest  and 
laid  the  foundation  stones  of  our  American  Pantheon.  We 


314  The  Evolution  of  Art. 

have  determined  a  few  political  postulates  which  were  neces- 
sary to  our  existence  as  a  state.  We  have  climbed  from  the 
position  of  a  poor  relation  in  the  confederacy  of  the  world, 
to  become  the  arbitrator  of  the  wealthiest  nation  of  Europe. 
The  children  of  Eubens's  genius,  repeated  by  art-processes 
unknown  but  a  score  of  years  ago,  look  down  from  the 
walls  of  the  humblest  peasantry  all  over  the  land,  the 
thoughts  of  all  the  great  poets  inspire  the  rudest  people  of 
the  frontiers.  In  whatever  waste  cavern  of  the  continent 
the  child  of  genius  hides,  a  ray  of  light  is  sure  to  touch 
him  from  the  ubiquitous  newspaper,  for  in  the  advanc- 
ing army  of  intelligence  at  the  very  front  is  the  column 
of  the  press.  We  have  just  begun  to  possess  a  leisure  class, 
without  which,  as  furnishing  art-lovers,  no  art  can  nourish. 
True,  our  leisure  classes  are  quite  often,  and  sometimes 
justly,  mistaken  for  loafers,  but  they  are  here  and  have  come 
to  stay.  They  are  finding  out  the  charms  of  Nature  and  are 
rapidly  possessing  themselves  of  her  domain.  They  have 
fallen  in  love  with  Art  and  are  transferring  her  treasures 
from  private  cloisters  to  public  museums.  They  have  begun 
to  house  in  seats  of  learning  our  masters  of  letters,  and  to 
erect  the  busts  and  statues  of  the  sculptors  within  our  pub- 
lic parks.  They  are  placing  in  the  way  of  all  the  people 
the  highest  interpretations  by  art  of  Nature.  Upon  the  use 
which  they  shall  make  of  this  opportunity  is  to  depend  the 
destiny  of  art,  and  out  of  this  destiny  is  to  emerge  the  com- 
ing artist.  Greater  than  Shakespeare's  may  be  the  song 
which  is  to  entrance  the  peoples  of  the  thousand  years  to 
come.  Greater,  higher,  stronger  than  all  the  past  has 
known  must  always  be  the  possibilities  of  the  future.  Let 
no  man,  surveying  the  present,  dare  to  boast  of  its  starve- 
ling products  as  the  best  that  is  in  the  capacity  of  men. 
Rather  let  us  with  candor  confess  that  in  the  unwritten  vol- 
umes of  the  coming  years  shall  be  found  the  fruitful  ne- 
penthe for  the  present.  Contented,  happy,  hopeful,  may 
that  man  or  woman  well  be  who  shall  have  listened  rever- 
ently to  the  lessons  of  the  past,  in  whom  the  sublime  vision 
of  beauty  shall  have  found  loving  recognition,  and  who  can 
with  kindling  heart  and  sincere  feeling  repeat  as  his  own 
the  language  of  another  but  little  paraphrased  : 

"  So  venerable,  so  majestic  is  this  living  temple  of  art,  this 
immemorial  and  yet  freshly  growing  fabric  of  beauty,  that  the 
least  of  us  is  happy  who  hereafter  may  point  to  so  much  as 
one  stone  thereof  and  say, '  The  work  of  my  hands  is  there.' " 


The  Evolution  of  Art.  315 


ABSTRACT  OF  THE   DISCUSSION. 

MR.  Z.  SIDNEY  SAMPSON  : 

While  I  have  been  deeply  interested  in  the  able  paper  of  Mr.  Tay- 
lor, 1  must  dissent  from  his  pessimistic  view  of  the  present  condition 
of  the  artist  in  America.  The  high  prices  obtained  for  objects  of  art 
at  recent  sales  is  an  evidence,  it  seems  to  me,  that  the  condition  of  the 
artist  is  improving. 

One  of  the  basic  principles  of  evolution  is  the  law  of  differentiation, 
as  expressed  in  Herbert  Spencer's  well-known  formula.  This  is  true 
not  only  in  biology  and  sociology,  but  also  in  the  development  of  art, 
as  illustrated  by  the  lecture  of  the  evening.  As  art  becomes  complex 
and  highly  organized,  it  differentiates  into  opposing  schools,  resulting 
from  differences  in  local  environments. 

As  regards  realism  or  naturalism,  against  which  the  lecturer  has 
animadverted,  as  I  understand  its  devotees,  they  hold  that  art  is  con- 
cerned with  truth  rather  than  with  morality.  In  literature,  at  least, 
they  profess  to  be  educators  of  their  readers.  In  order  to  educate  them 
in  a  knowledge  of  life,  we  must  analyze  life,  and  if  we  truthfully  por- 
tray the  facts  derived  from  our  analysis,  we  must  record  and  portray 
the  details  even  of  vice  and  crime.  Such  writers  do  not  claim  the 
name  of  artist  so  much  as  that  of  educator  and  truth-teller. 

MB.  DANIEL  GBEENLEAF  THOMPSON: 

I  have  listened  with  great  pleasure  to  the  scholarly  and  beautiful 
lecture  of  Mr.  Taylor,  and  will  merely  amplify  one  or  two  thoughts 
which  he  has  presented.  In  the  familiar  line  of  Keats, 

"  A  thing  of  beauty  is  a  joy  forever," 

are  set  forth  two  of  the  fundamental  characteristics  of  art :  first,  in 
the  word  "  joy,"  which  expresses  the  principle  that  there  must  be  in 
all  true  art  the  quality  of  agreeableness,  and,  secondly,  in  the  word 
"  forever,"  which  indicates  the  universality  of  art.  A  work  of  human 
skill,  to  be  art,  must  be  beautiful ;  the  disagreeable  as  it  exists  in 
Nature  or  in  fact  must  be  eliminated.  Realistic  art,  so  called,  thus 
fails  to  be  real  art.  Yet  we  are  bound  to  realize  the  fact  that  tastes 
differ  at  different  times,  and  that  which  one  generation  applauds  may 
be  condemned  by  another.  Many  of  the  pictures  to  be  seen  in  foreign 
galleries  are  to  us  expressive  only  of  the  horrible,  presenting  as  they 


316  The  Evolution  of  Art. 

do  phases  of  military  and  religious  life  that  we  have  ceased  to  admire 
yet  when  they  were  painted  they  were  an  inspiration  to  the  beholders 
living  in  environments  totally  different  from  ours.  In  our  day  real- 
ism takes  a  form  less  disagreeable  to  us,  though  perhaps  not  less  ob- 
jectionable on  that  account.  After  all,  we  must  not  quarrel  with  the 
artist,  but  with  the  people  or  civilization  whose  habits  he  depicts.  In 
the  future,  Art  will  ally  itself  to  Science,  interpreting  and  explaining 
the  latter— combining  the  highest  art  with  the  highest  scientific  truth. 
The  most  finished  work  of  art  will  always  be  a  noble  human  character. 

ME.  ELLSWORTH  WARNER  : 

I  think  the  lecturer  has  not  dwelt  sufficiently  upon  the  relation  of 
art  to  morality.  In  the  discussion  of  the  evolution  of  art  before  an 
ethical  association  that  point  ought  not  to  be  slighted.  Does  the 
development  of  the  artistic  feeling  conduce  to  the  higher  evolution  of 
man  as  a  moral  being  f  Viewing  art  historically,  were  those  ages 
most  distinguished  for  its  development  remarkable  also  for  purity  of 
morals?  In  Greece,  for  example,  the  over-development  of  the  art- 
feeling  was  certainly  coincident  with  the  fostering  of  a  love  of  pleas- 
ure rather  than  a  sense  of  duty.  The  Puritan  period,  in  which,  what- 
ever may  have  been  its  faults,  the  idea  of  duty  was  paramount,  was 
not  an  art  period.  The  field  of  art,  as  it  appears  to  me,  is  narrowing 
by  the  application  of  mechanical  devices  in  the  production  of  the 
beautiful.  If  recent  reports  of  success  in  photographing  colors  are 
correct,  a  great  step  will  be  taken  toward  the  disuse  of  the  pencil  and 
the  brush. 

DR.  LEWIS  GL. JANES: 

I  have  greatly  enjoyed  the  lecture  of  Mr.  Taylor,  and  heartily  agree 
with  him  in  his  main  positions.  I  was  particularly  glad  to  hear  his 
characterization  of  our  modern  realism  in  literature.  I  can  not 
refrain,  however,  from  protesting  against  the  association  of  the  name 
of  Walt  Whitman  with  those  of  Tolstoi,  Ibsen— and  Zola,  I  presume, 
should  be  classed  with  them,  though  I  have  never  read  a  page  of  Zola 
myself.  I  have  read  Walt  Whitman,  and  his  realism— virile  and  opti- 
mistic, full  of  the  healthy,  natural  flavor  of  the  woods  and  fields — it 
seems  to  rue,  should  not  be  confounded  with  the  morbid  pessimism  of 
the  realistic  novelists,  which  smacks  rather  of  the  over-heated,  ill-ven- 
tilated study.  I  confess  that  I  can  not  always  see  poetry  in  Whitman's 
productions,  but  his  realism  seems  to  me  expressive  of  an  ideal  totally 
different  from  that  of  Tolstoi  and  Ibsen.  If  he  exalts  the  sense-life  in 
man,  it  is  because  he  sees  in  it  that  which  is  healthful,  natural,  and 
good.  Whitman  is  the  prophet  of  Democracy ;  his  protest  is  against 


The  Evolution  of  Art.  .      317 

that  morbid  asceticism,  born  of  a  false  theology,  which  assumes  man's 
total  depravity  and  sees  naught  but  evil  in  his  bodily  passions.  You 
nowhere  find  in  his  writings  apologies  for  or  glorifications  of  the  sen- 
sual, as  such,  in  an  evil  or  degrading  sense,  or  minute  delineations  of 
vice  and  crime,  or  pessimistic  views  of  life  or  its  conditions.  The 
praise  of  pure-minded  Emerson,  and  of  such  able  art-critics  as  John 
Addington  Symonds,  shows  that  I  am  not  alone  in  my  judgment 

MB.  WILLIAM  POTTS  : 

I  wish  to  add  a  word  of  thanks  to  the  lecturer  for  his  vigorous  de- 
nunciation of  the  liarn^yard  school  of  literature.  I  can  not  say  with 
the  president  that  I  have  not  read  a  page  of  Zola ;  I  have  read  many 
pages ;  but  I  do  not  regard  him  nearly  as  disgusting  as  Tolstoi.  I  dis- 
agree with  Mr.  Warner  in  his  implication  that  we  may  be  injured 
morally  by  too  much  love  of  the  beautiful.  The  moral  is  itself  the 
beautiful  in  character,  and  naturally  allies  itself  with  all  other 
forms  of  beauty.  As  regards  photography,  in  a  certain  sense  it  is  art, 
as  are  also  the  so-called  mechanic  arts.  In  the  highest  sense,  how- 
ever, art  is  Nature  as  seen  through  the  medium  of  the  artist.  The 
personal  note  is  the  main  thing  in  art  of  the  highest  character.  I  do 
not  think,  with  Mr.  Taylor,  that  art  necessarily  reached  its  highest 
development  in  the  past.  Following  the  natural  law  of  evolution,  art 
has  become  specialized,  and  while  we  may  not  have  great  all-around 
artists,  we  have  great  specialists  in  art.  In  dramatic  music,  for  in- 
stance, I  think  most  competent  critics  will  agree  that  in  Richard 
Wagner  this  art  has  reached  its  highest  exemplification  in  our  own 
day.  And  in  landscape  painting  no  previous  era  has  equaled  our 


DR.  ROBEET  G.  ECCLES  : 

I  am  surprised  that  no  word  has  been  said  in  defense  of  Tolstoi 
from  the  strictures  that  have  been  made  upon  him.  I  think  he  is  the 
only  really  consistent  Christian  writer  of  our  time.  I  do  not  believe 
he  is  guilty  of  intentional  grossness.  While  I  do  not  myself  accept 
Tolstoi's  conclusions,  I  believe  him  to  be  honest  and  consistent.  I  be- 
lieve he  is  following,  sincerely  and  logically,  the  teachings  of  Jesus 
Christ  and  of  St.  Paul 

ME.  J.  HOWAED   COWPERTHWAIT : 

I  wish  to  enter  my  protest  against  eulogizing  the  Puritan,  and  ex- 
tolling his  spirit  and  influence  as  of  superior  morality  to  that  of  our 
own  time.  I  think  the  Puritans  wrought  great  mischief  by  their 
teaching  that  all  pleasure  is  wicked.  Their  appearance  of  superior 


318  The  Evolution  of  Art. 

sanctity  was  superficial.  Like  all  asceticism,  it  covered  grosser  immo- 
ralities of  conduct  than  those  which  characterize  eras  of  larger  free- 
dom. The  Puritan  should  be  taken  down  from  his  pedestal,  and  Art 
placed  thereon  instead. 

ME.  TAYLOR,  in  closing,  replied  briefly  to  his  critics,  defending  the 
positions  taken  in  his  lecture.  He  thought  Mr.  Warner  confounded 
the  natural  effect  of  art  with  that  of  the  prostitution  of  art.  As  to 
Tolstoi  and  Whitman,  he  regarded  them  as  geniuses— particularly  the 
former.  The  latter  was  undoubtedly  original,  but  was  he  a  poet? 
The  great  poet  might  analyze,  but  Whitman's  analysis  ran  into  iiic<m- 
sequential  details  that  were  no  more  poetry  or  art  than  was  an  auc- 
tioneer's catalogue.  Mr.  Taylor  closed  with  an  amusing  parody  on 
the  poetry  of  Whitman. 


THE  EVOLUTION 
OF  ARCHITECTURE 


BT 

JOHN  W.  CHADWICK 

B  BIBLE  OF  TO-DAY,  CHARLES  R.  DARWIX,  KVOLTTIOX  AS 
BELATED  TO  RELIGIOUS  THOCGHT,  ETC. 


COLLATERAL  READINGS  SUGGESTED: 

Liibke's  History  of  Art ;  K«ber's  History  of  Ancient  Art  and  His- 
tory of  Mediaeval  Art ;  Freeman's  The  Effects  of  the  Norman  Con- 
quest on  Art,  in  History  of  the  Norman  Conquest,  Chap.  XXVI,  and 
Historical  Sketch  of  Architecture  in  Great  Britain,  in  Badekers  Great 
Britain ;  Fergusson's  History  of  Modern  Architecture  and  Palaces  of 
Nineveh  and  Persepolis ;  Article  Architecture,  in  Encyclopaedia  Britan- 
nica;  Viollet  Le  Due's  Discourses  on  Architecture  and  Story  of  a 
House ;  Herbert  Spencer's  Sources  of  Architectural  Types,  in  Illustra- 
tions of  Universal  Progress;  Wilkinson's  Architecture  of  Ancient 
Egypt;  Parker's  Introduction  to  the  Study  of  Gothic  Architecture; 
Street's  Gothic  Architecture  in  Spain ;  Moore's  Gothic  Architecture ; 
Murray's  Handbooks  of  the  English  Cathedrals ;  Montgomery  Schuy- 
ler's  Modern  Architecture  in  America. 


THE  EVOLUTION  OF  ARCHITECTURE. 

BY  JOHN  "W.  CHADWICK. 

To  any  rational  understanding  of  the  evolution  of  archi- 
tecture no  one  can  help  us  less  than  the  philosopher  whose 
name  is  associated  with  the  doctrine  of  evolution  more  hon- 
orably than  any  other.  Mr.  Spencer  has  written  briefly  of 
the  Sources  of  Architectural  Types.  The  following  are  the 
results  which  he  contributes  to  our  edification:  "Build- 
ings in  the  Greek  and  Roman  style  seem,  in  virtue  of  their 
symmetry,  to  take  their  type  from  animal  life.  In  the 
partly-irregular  Gothic,  ideas  derived  from  the  vegetable 
world  appear  to  predominate.  And  wholly  irregular  build- 
ings, such  as  castles,  may  be  considered  as  having  inorganic 
forms  for  their  base."  Mr.  Spencer  has  little  sense  of  hu- 
mor, but  Sidney  Smith  never  wrote  anything  funnier  than 
this.  We  are  not  told  what  particular  animal  is  resembled 
by  the  Parthenon.  "Analogies  do  not  go  on  all  fours," 
said  Whately,  and  certainly  the  Parthenon  does  not.  It  is 
more  centipede  than  quadruped.  But  its  sides  are  alike, 
and  its  back  and  front  are  different.  Certainly  it  resembles 
a  quadruped  to  this  extent,  and  this  is  all  that  Mr.  Spencer's 
analogy  amounts  to,  all  that  he  claims.  The  inference  that 
the  Greek  went  to  the  animal  world  for  his  architectural 
scheme  is  a  conjecture  as  absurd  as  that  of  the  Christian 
father  Irenseus,  to  the  effect  that  there  must  be  four  gos- 
pels because  the  wind  blows  from  four  quarters.  For  proof 
that  castles  of  irregular  construction  are  copied  from  "  in- 
organic forms  "  Mr.  Spencer  offers  the  fact  or  fancy  that 
the  more  irregular  they  are  the  better  we  are  pleased ;  and 
that  is  so  with  inorganic  forms.  But  is  it  so  ?  From  the 
whole  range  of  crystalline  perfection  comes  an  emphatic 
No.  But  Mr.  Spencer  was  evidently  thinking  more  of  great 
masses  of  inorganic  matter,  of  mountain  scenery.  Is  it  true 
of  that,  the  more  irregular  the  better?  Or  do  we  never  tire 
of  our  Monadnock's  symmetry,  or  of  such  splendid  cones 
as  Hood  and  Fusiyami  lift  into  the  upper  air  ?  A  certain 
"  protective  resemblance  "  in  castles  built  on  cliff  or  crag 
goes  but  a  little  way  in  proof  of  Mr.  Spencer's  generaliza- 


322  The  Evolution  of  Architecture. 

tion.  The  account  he  gives  of  the  origins  of  the  most  sym- 
metrical and  the  most  irregular  forms  is  at  least  original, 
and  his  claim  to  it  does  not  invite  dispute.  But,  as  for  the 
resemblance  of  Gothic  architecture  to  vegetable  forms,  he  is 
one  of  many  in  remarking  the  analogy  between  a  groined 
nave  and  an  avenue  of  trees  with  interlacing  branches,  and 
in  contending  that  the  former  is  a  copy  of  the  latter.  But 
"  an  avenue  of  trees  "  is  quite  as  artificial  as  a  cathedral  nave, 
and,  while  it  is  possible  that  the  latter  suggested  the  for- 
mer, it  is  certain  that  the  former  did  not  suggest  the  latter. 
We  know  perfectly  well  how  the  groined  nave  arose,  and  we 
know  that  its  actual  origin  furnishes  illustrations  of  the 
doctrine  of  evolution  second  in  force  and  beauty  to  no 
others  in  its  imperial  range.  One  approaches  the  west  front 
of  Winchester  Cathedral  from  a  magnificent  avenue  of  trees 
that  interlace  their  branches  overhead.  Entering  the  cathe- 
dral, you  find  the  nave,  I  can  not  say  built,  but  decorated,  in 
the  perpendicular  style.  England  has  nothing  else  to  show 
so  like  an  avenue  of  trees.  But  how  feeble  is  the  impres- 
sion in  comparison  with  the  avenue  without !  Man's  art, 
though  at  its  best,  is  ever  feeble  when  compared  with  the 
majestic  handiwork  of  God. 

It  is  an  interesting  comment  on  Mr.  Spencer's  account  of 
architectural  origins  that  Mr.  Sidney  Colvin,  who  is  "  wise 
unto  salvation'^ in  such  matters,  classifies  architecture  with 
music  as  a  non-imitative  art.  He  is  well  aware  that  in  the 
pastoral  symphony  and  elsewhere  there  are  imitations  of 
natural  sounds,  and  that  in  architecture,  especially  in  deco- 
ration, there  is  much  imitation,  more  or  less  conventional, 
of  vegetable  and  animal  forms.  But  these  facts  do  not 
affect  the  main  conclusion  that  as  music  in  general  "  ap- 
peals to  our  faculties  for  taking  pleasure  in  non-imitative 
combinations  of  transitory  sound,  so  architecture  appeals 
to  our  faculties  for  taking  pleasure  in  non-imitative  com- 
binations of  stationary  mass " — "  combinations  of  line, 
light  and  shade,  color,  proportion,  interval,  alternation  of 
plain  and  decorated  parts,  regularity  and  variety  in  regu- 
larity, apparent  stability,  vastness,  appropriateness,  and  so 
on."  Further  than  to  set  architecture  with  music  as  a  non- 
imitative  art  over  against  the  three  other  fine  arts — sculpt- 
ure, painting,  and  poetry,  which  are  non-imitative  in  this 
matter  of  classification — I  do  not  care  to  go.  The  different 
classifications  have  been  almost  as  many  as  the  attempts  to 
classify.  That  men  so  radically  different  in  their  methods 


The  Evolution  of  Architecture.  •  323 

as  Comte  and  Hegel  arrived  at  very  similar  conclusions 
gives  to  their  classification  a  special  interest.  This,  pro- 
ceeding from  the  lowest  to  the  highest,  was  architecture, 
sculpture,  painting,  music,  poetry.  But  here  the  personal 
equation  accounts  for  much.  No  great  architect  or  sculptor 
would  allow  of  such  subordination  to  his  favorite  art.  So 
with  the  passive,  non-creative  artists  of  the  world — those 
who  enjoy  what  the  creative  artists  make.  For  them  the 
highest  art  is  that  which  they  enjoy  the  most.  'Thus,  if  I 
were  going  to^dassify  the  arts,  I  should  say,  beginning  at 
the  top,  poetry,  architecture,  sculpture,  painting,  music,  but 
I  should  know  that  my  classification  was  purely  subjective 
after  its  highest  term.  That  poetry  is  absolutely  the  high- 
est of  the  arts  I  have  not  a  particle  of  doubt,  and  not  much 
that  music  is  the  lowest.  And  for  this  reason  the  confu- 
sion of  poetry  and  music  by  such  poets  as  Poe  and  Swin- 
burne and  Sidney  Lanier  seems  to  me  a  very  lamentable  re- 
sult. 

That  architecture  is  the  only  art  of  those  ranked  as  Fine 
Arts  of  the  Primary  Order  that  has  any  implication  of  util- 
ity, is  a  circumstance  which  has  frequently  prevailed  with 
those  who  have  assigned  to  it  a  lower  place.  And  one  of 
these  contends  that  architecture  is  pure  art  only  in  such 
constructions  as  are  useless  or  very  nearly  so,  and  these  are 
religious  edifices  and  monuments.  According  to  this  dictum, 
the  Eoman  Catholic  church  in  which  the  priest  does  the 
worship  is  a  much  better  field  for  the  pure  art  of  architect- 
ure than  a  Protestant  church  where  "  the  word  preached  "  is 
an  essential  part  of  the  worship.  Cardinal  Newman  said  : 
"A  church  wanted  for  human  use  can  not  compete  with  a 
sacred  building  not  wanted  by  men  and  women ;  for  in  the 
latter  case  it  is  built  for  the  honor  and  glory  of  God,  which 
is  a  much  higher  end  of  action  than  the  convenience  or  serv- 
ice of  men."  Such  a  church  would  furnish  a  basis  for  the 
ideal  purity  of  architectural  art  without  any  hindrance  of 
utility.  It  is  a  wiser  thought  that  architecture  finds  nowhere 
a  more  sacred  law  than  in  the  fitness  of  its  constructions  for 
the  ends  which  they  are  meant  to  serve.  That  is  the  best 
architecture  in  which  we  do  not  have  to  write  under  the  sep- 
arate buildings,  "  This  is  a  church,"  "  This  is  a  bank,"  and 
so  on,  because  a  dominant  style  has  imposed  itself  upon  the 
city.  The  uniformity  of  Paris  is  considered  classical,  but  we 
have  reason  to  believe  that  Rome  and  Athens  loved  variety, 
especially  of  elevation.  Nothing  could  be  more  different 


324  The  Evolution  of  Architecture. 

from  the  one  level  of  the  Louvre  or  Versailles  than  that  glo- 
rious jumble  which  the  so-called  palace  of  the  Caesars  must 
have  been  in  Eome,  a  group  of  palaces,  no  two  upon  one  level ; 
and  the  Acropolis  of  Athens  presented  a  similar  effect.  Use 
in  architecture  is  not  necessarily  the  enemy  of  beauty.  For 
all  its  technical  defects  even  so  useful  a  building  as  our  capi- 
tol  at  Washington  is  very  nobly  beautiful.  Very  beautiful 
also  were  the  town  halls  of  Flanders,  in  Brussels,  Ghent, 
Liege,  Louvain,  and  Oudenarde.  Chicago  has  no  church, 
even  the  most  useless,  that  is  so  beautiful  as  the  great  store- 
house for  dry  goods  which  Mr.  Richardson  built  for  Mar- 
shall Field.  Nor  are  the  arches  of  our  Brooklyn  Bridge  less 
admirable  as  architecture  because  they  serve  the  daily  use  of 
thronging  multitudes. 

Much  better  than  to  define  architecture  as  the  art  of  those 
constructions  which  have  no  use  is  it  to  say  that  it  is  the  art 
of  building  with  an  eye  to  beauty  without  sacrifice  of  use 
where  there  is  any  use  to  serve — "  a  shaping  art  of  which 
the  function  is  to  arouse  emotion  by  combinations  of  ordered 
and  decorated  mass."  And  what  is  meant  by  the  evolution 
of  architecture  is  that  in  its  historic  changes  there  is  noth- 
ing accidental ;  that  each  present  form  of  it  is  rooted  in 
some  past  and  has  its  bearing  on  the  future ;  that  here  also 
there  is  a  struggle  for  existence  and  the  preservation  of  the 
fittest  to  survive,  which  may  or  may  not  be  the  most  beauti- 
ful', that  there  is  a  development  of  degeneration  as  well  as  of 
progress,  as  in  animal  and  vegetable  evolution ;  that  here,  as 
there,  we  have  fixity  of  type  and  the  tendency  to  variation, 
and  that  the  selected  variations  make  new  species  in  the 
course  of  time.  Indeed,  there  is  hardly  any  principle  of  the 
general  philosophy  of  evolution  which  does  not  find  some 
illustration  in  the  history  of  architectural  form  and  decora- 
tion. 

I  do  not  propose  at  every  stage  of  my  discourse  to  point 
the  moral,  but  to  give  you  a  broad  outline  of  the  course  of 
architectural  development,  and  let  you  make  the  application 
for  yourselves,  with  here  and  there  a  more  explicit  word. 

Building  is  not  architecture  till  it  makes  for  beauty,  not 
for  use  alone.  Could  there  have  been  preserved  to  us  any  of 
the  caves,  or  huts,  or  tents,  of  the  primeval  races,  we  should 
doubtless  know  that  this  "  making  for  beauty  "  was  at  an 
early  stage.  From  the  fact  that  the  cave-dwellers  of  Europe 
ornamented  their  tools  and  weapons  it  is  a  safe  inference 
that  they  strove  to  beautify  the  caves  in  which  they  lived. 


The  Evolution  of  Architecture.  325 

The  shaping  force  of  the  environment  determined  the  kind 
of  habitation ;  with  wood  abundant  there  was  the  wooden 
hut ;  with  wood  scarce  and  stone  abundant,  the  hut  of  stone ; 
where  wood  and  stone  alike  were  scarce,  the  skins  of  beasts 
stretched  upon  poles  furnished  the  primitive  tent.  Survival 
is  a  proof  of  evolution  second  to  no  other.  Thoreau's  trout 
in  the  milk  is  not  better  circumstantial  evidence  of  it.  Now 
that  we  have  in  the  temples  of  Egypt,  if  not  of  Greece,  the 
stone  hut  or  cave  magnified  and  improved,  in  the  structures 
of  India  and  ^ei^ia>he  wooden  hut  enlarged  and  glorified, 
there  can  be  no^oubt ;  but  it  is  the  architecture  of  the  pago- 
da and  the  mosque  that  most  obviously  tells  the  story  of  its 
origin ;  one  sees  the  tent  in  them  with  half  an  eye.  The 
Lycian  tomb  in  the  British  Museum  is  an  object-lesson  of 
remarkable  significance.  Built  of  stone,  its  whole  construc- 
tion is  a  reminiscence  of  the  carpenter.  That  the  temples  of 
Greece  are  reminiscential  in  the  same  way  I  may  not  dare  to 
say,  because  two  such  eminent  authorities  as  Viollet  le  Due 
and  Dr.  Franz  von  Eeber  are  of  opposite  opinions,  each 
absolutely  sure  that  he  is  right.  I  must  confess  that  Eeber, 
contending  that  the  stone-work  of  the  Greeks  was  but  a 
modified  carpentry,  appears  to  me  to  make  out  his  case 
much  better  than  Le  Due. 

The  earliest  architecture,  properly  so  called,  with  which 
we  are  acquainted  is  that  of  Egypt,  and  this  is  far  removed 
from  any  of  the  rude  beginnings  of  mankind.  The  oldest 
buildings  stand  upon  the  youngest  earth,  the  alluvial  deposits 
of  the  Nile.  Chaldea  may  have  preceded  Egypt  with  a 
splendid  architecture,  but  she  built  of  sun-dried  bricks 
where  Egypt  built  of  stone,  and  offered  premiums  on  oblivion 
by  that  method,  the  only  one  at  her  command.  By  what 
steps  of  strength  and  beauty  Egypt  climbed  to  that  plateau 
of  architectural  splendor  on  which  we  find  her  sitting  proudly 
at  the  dawn  of  history  five  thousand  years  ago  it  is  not  given 
us  to  know.  If  we  could  believe  that  any  architecture  was 
a  revelation  of  the  Infinite  Beauty  and  had  no  progressive 
development  from  less  to  greater  things,  we  should  believe  it 
of  the  architecture  of  Egypt,  not  only  because  we  find  none 
of  the  steps  that  led  to  it,  but  because  from  the  period  of 
our  first  acquaintance  with  it  it  reveals  so  little  change.  "With 
such  immobility  preceding  the  oldest  monuments  as  we  have 
succeeding  them,  no  time  seems  long  enough  to  have  devel- 
oped the  architecture  of  those  monuments.  There  must 
have  been  a  time  when  every  present  did  not  slavishly  repro- 


326  The  Evolution  of  Architecture. 

duce  the  methods  of  the  past,  and  there  must  have  come 
some  terrible  experience  to  chill  invention  to  the  bone,  and 
it  could  have  been  no  brief  experience.  Look  at  it  any  way 
we  will,  the  monuments  of  ancient  Egypt  have  their  founda- 
tions in  a  past  that  baffles  the  imagination.  From  the  time 
they  rise  on  our  astonished  gaze  until  the  beginning  of  our 
era — that  is  to  say,  through  the  entire  course  of  their  history 
— they  afford  such  an  illustration  of  the  principle  of  fixity  of 
type,  so  central  to  the  doctrine  of  development,  as  only 
China  can  begin  to  match  in  other  fields  of  human  nature's 
self-expression.  If  we  had  to  judge  from  their  monuments 
we  might  confound  Egyptian  dynasties  one  and  two  thou- 
sand years  apart.  The  most  tremendous  revolutions  came 
and  went,  and  still  the  architectural  type  remained  un- 
changed. Pygmalion  falling  in  love  with  the  statue  he  had 
carved  would  fain  have  given  it  life.  Egypt  reversed  his 
mood :  falling  in  love  with  her  creations,  she  fain  would  have 
them  stiffen  into  death,  and  so  they  did.  The  sameness  of 
her  skies,  her  seasons'  habits  of  invariable  drought  and  flood, 
no  doubt  expressed  themselves  in  the  uniformities  of  her  in- 
tellectual history.  The  temple,  the  obelisk,  and  the  pyramid 
are  the  three  splendid  forms  in  which  she  expressed  the  rul- 
ing passions  of  her  life  for  worship,  for  remembrance,  and 
for  the  mystery  of  death.  The  work  of  human  hands  pre- 
sents no  simpler  illustration  of  the  course  of  evolution  than 
the  development  of  the  pyramid  from  the  little  mound  of 
earth  which  the  displacement  of  the  body  makes  above  a 
new-made  grave.  The  next  step  was  to  heap  the  earth  a  lit- 
tle higher ;  then,  seeking  greater  permanence,  men  raised 
the  cairn — the  heap  of  stones.  But  from  these  rude  begin- 
nings what  a  march  to  the  pyramids  of  Dashour  and  Gizeh ! 
The  final  geometrical  form  with  those  long,  slanting  sides 
was  probably  determined  by  its  resistance  to  the  desert's 
stupid  rage.  Tenterden  Steeple  was  the  cause  of  the  Good- 
win Sands.  Inversely  the  sands  of  Egypt  were  the  cause  of 
the  pyramids'  unbroken  lines  and  surfaces.  Any  irregularity 
invited  the  blowing  sand  to  come  and  bury  the  monument 
and  defeat  the  monarch's  pride.  No  senseless  piles  are  these 
which  ignorant  slaves  could  heap  course  upon  course  with 
stupid  iteration ;  nay,  but  marvels  of  a  constructive  genius 
that  must  have  loved  its  work  as  only  the  true  artist  can. 
For  intelligent  adaptation  of  the  artist's  means  to  the  ends 
he  clearly  had  in  view,  there  is  no  work  superior  to  this. 
Egyptian  monarchs  did  not  monopolize  the  pyramidal 


The  Evolution  of  Architecture.  327 

tomb ;  they  only  insisted  that  their  pyramids  should  come 
to  the  point ;  an  easier  thing  to  accomplish  with  a  pyramid 
than  sometimes  with  the  living  man,  as  many  a  woman 
knows.  But  rock-hewn  tombs  were  the  more  common  form 
of  burial  for  heads  that  did  not  wear  a  crown.  The  square 
pillars  that  support  the  roofs  of  these  burial  chambers  mark 
the  beginnings  of  Egyptian  temple  architecture.  As  those 
piers  were  treated  in  one  way  or  another  they  evolved  into 
the  proto-Doric  or  the  more  characteristic  lotus-stem  column 
of  three  thousand  yearg.  Along  one  line  the  corners  were 
chamfered  awayjagaifi  and  again  till  the  pier  became  round, 
and  then  "  its  sleek  rotundity  "  was  channeled  with  a  great- 
er or  less  number  of  perpendicular  grooves.  In  the  square 
piers,  the  eight  and  sixteen  sided  polygons,  and  the  round 
columns  with  their  various  flutings,  we  have  a  chapter  of 
evolution  in  which  there  is  no  missing  link.  We  have  an- 
other equally  interesting  and  complete  in  the  evolution  of 
the  painted  pier.  The  graver's  tool  followed  everywhere  in 
the  footsteps  of  color,  and  nowhere  more  obviously  than  here  : 
a  favorite  painted  ornament  was  the  long  stems  of  the  lotus 
with  their  flowering  tops  bound  into  a  sheaf.  This  orna- 
ment was  reproduced  in  stone.  The  bunch  of  blossoms  was 
the  capital ;  the  binding  fillet  grew  into  its  hypotrachelion — 
i.  e.,  the  convex  ring  between  the  capital  and  shaft.  Another 
and  most  happy  step  made  the  shaft  one  gigantic  stem  and 
the  capital  one  gigantic  blossom,  and  the  Egyptian  column 
had  then  reached  its  most  characteristic  form,  which  rises 
in  our  minds  as  quickly  and  distinctly  as  the  pyramid  when- 
ever the  subject  of  Egyptian  architecture  is  named ;  or  as 
the  obelisks  which  stood  in  pairs  before  the  pylons  of  the 
temples,  those  great  truncated  pyramids  which  made  the 
temple's  front,  approached  through  rows  of  sphinxes  asking 
upon  either  hand  the  everlasting  questions  which  the  priests 
within  answered  as  best  they  could.  We  see  with  our  minds 
and  not  merely  with  our  eyes,  and  seeing  so  (especially  since 
the  Egyptian  obelisk  came  to  stay  with  us,  and  we  know 
how  difficult  it  was  to  handle  the  great  monolith),  can  we 
admire  too  much  the  energy  and  skill  that  quarried  this  and 
all  its  splendid  fellows  from  the  rocky  borders  of  the  Kile  ? 
Any  detailed  account  of  an  Egyptian  temple  would  ex- 
haust the  time  I  have  at  my  command  and  still  be  incom- 
plete. Passing  within  its  monstrous  portal,  one  entered  first 
the  peristyle  or  outer  court,  and  then  the  hypostyle  or  inner, 
par  excellence  the  hall  of  columns.  This  at  Carnac  was 


328  The  Evolution  of  Architecture. 

truly  a  forest  of  columns — one  hundred  and  thirty-eight  in 
all — the  larger  seventy  feet  in  height  with  capitals  of  twenty 
feet  diameter.  It  may  well  be  doubted  whether  the  world 
has  ever  known  another  architectural  effect  so  grand  and  so 
imposing  as  this  must  have  been,  seen  in  its  glorious  prime. 
No  wonder  it  became  a  type  so  fixed  that  it  withstood  even 
the  onset  of  the  Koman  power  which  carried  everywhere 
else  throughout  its  wide  dominions  the  hybrid  forms  of  its 
own  art.  Egyptian  art  under  the  Ptolemies  was  Egyptian 
still ;  the  temple  of  Edfou  its  most  characteristic  work, 
which,  till  the  reading  of  its  inscriptions,  the  archaeologists 
fancied  of  an  earlier  date  than  the  temples  of  the  Theban 
dynasty  two  thousand  years  before.  It  was  Cleopatra's 
nose,  they  say,  that  changed  the  world ;  but  these  Egyptian 
builders  changed  Cleopatra's  nose  ;  made  her  Egyptian 
utterly,  and  dressed  her  in  the  clinging  garments  of  old 
Rhamses's  queen,  who  had  been  dead  about  three  thousand 
years. 

In  the  last  analysis  we  should,  no  doubt,  be  able  to  detect 
a  great  many  actions  and  reactions  of  European  and  Asiatic 
architecture  upon  each  other,  but  the  main  stream  of  archi- 
tectural evolution,  which  is  all  that  I  can  hope  to  trace 
in  one  short  hour,  was,  with  one  exception,  not  seriously 
affected  by  Asiatic  influences,  great  builders  though  the 
Hindoos  and  Iranians  and  Assyrians  and  Sassanians  un- 
questionably were.  Westward  the  star  of  architectural  em- 
pire took  its  way.  In  our  Metropolitan  Museum  we  see 
the  struggle  for  existence  between  the  sculpture  of  Egypt 
and  Assyria,  with  the  gradual  emergence  of  the  Hellenic 
type.  This  struggle  must  have  had  a  wide  extent,  and  ar- 
chitecture as  well  as  sculpture  must  have  been  affected  by 
it  in  both  Ionian  and  Doric  Greece.  In  Ionia,  upon  the 
western  coast  of  Asia  Minor,  we  should  expect  to  find  the 
Oriental  influence  more  evident  than  in  Attica,  and  it  is  so. 
If  the  tombs  of  Lycia  on  the  southern  coast  of  Asia  Minor, 
with  their  Ionic  columns  imperfectly  developed,  do  not 
mark  a  station  of  the  western  march  of  architectural  forms 
from  Mesopotamia,  they  are  "  a  distinct  parallel  develop- 
ment of  the  most  primitive  Ionic  forms,"  and  their  Oriental 
origin  in  either  case  admits  of  little  doubt.  But  Greece 
touched  nothing  that  she  did  not  beautify ;  and  the  differ- 
ence of  the  completely  developed  Ionic  column  and  its  order 
from  the  primitive  forms  of  Lycia  and  Ionia  is  a  differ- 
ence which  makes  for  symmetry  and  beauty  in  every  least 


The  Evolution  of  Architecture.  329 

particular  of  change.  But  the  Ionic  column  with  its  order 
was  never  the  most  characteristic  of  the  Hellenic  genius ;  it 
never  could  compete  with  the  Doric  in  European  Greece. 
But  the  Doric,  even  more  obviously  than  the  Ionic,  was  a 
borrowed  form,  and  Egypt  was  its  original  home.  There 
it  was  the  proto-Doric  column  which  was,  as  I  have  said,  de- 
veloped by  the  chamfering  off  of  angle  after  angle  of  the 
square  pier  till  it  was  practically  round,  and  then  grooving 
it  to  obviate  its  "sleek  rotundity."  The  monuments  of 
Beni-Hassan  prove  that  Egypt  reached  this  proto-Doric 
form  a  thousand  years/before  the  architects  of  Greece. 
Shakespeare  was  ttoVso^  royal  a  borrower  as  the  Greeks,  nor 
so  justified  his  borrowing  from  the  clumsy  playwrights  who 
furnished  him  with  his  various  plots  by  his  imperial  trans- 
formation. As  with  the  Ionic  column,  the  capital  took  on 
an  ever  purer  grace  and  the  entablature  added  a  member 
of  the  first  importance,  the  wide  frieze,  a  necessity  of  the 
roof  and  ceiling,  where  the  Egyptians  had  them  both  in 
one,  and  flat,  encouraged  by  their  rainless  skies.  Then,  too, 
the  Greeks  were  practical  idealists.  They  knew  that  things 
are  not  what  they  appear  and  contrariwise,  and  so  they  gave 
the  shaft  an  entasis — i.  e.,  bulged  it  out  a  little  so  that  it 
might  not  look  as  if  it  were  hollowed  in  ;  and  in  the  same 
spirit  they  inclined  the  columns  a  little  inward  (a  very  lit- 
tle, 1^ir  of  the  height),  so  that  they  might  look  exactly  ver- 
tical. It  can  hardly  be  regarded  as  an  Egyptian  reminis- 
cence that  the  Doric  column  was  so  sturdy  in  its  strength. 
The  most  perfect  architects  "  by  their  loved  masonry  ap- 
proved "  this  sturdiness,  the  columns  of  the  Parthenon,  in 
which  the  Doric  style  reached  its  perfection,  being  about 
five  diameters  in  height,  a  happy  mean  between  the  earliest 
and  later  forms.*  It  was  no  foolish  fancy  that  the  Doric  was 
to  the  Ionic  column  as  masculine  strength  compared  with 
feminine  delicacy  and  grace,  and  the  comparison  held  good 
of  the  entire  order,  which  in  the  Ionic  was  proportionately 
delicate  in  every  part  as  in  the  Doric  it  was  proportionately 
stout  and  strong.  Both  the  base  and  capital  of  the  Ionic 
column  prove  its  Asiatic  source.  But  as  the  Egyptian  proto- 
Doric  suffered  a  Greek  change  into  something  rich  and 
strange,  so  did  the  primitive  Ionic.  The  round  base-mold- 
ing got  the  under  concave  plinth,  its  horizontal  groovings 
bringing  it  into  harmony  with  the  perpendicular  groovings 


'  Four  at  Corinth  ;  six  at  Sunium. 


330  The  Evolution  of  Architecture. 

of  the  shaft.  These  were  different  from  the  Doric  flutings 
and  different  from  the  Persian,  which,  like  the  Doric,  met 
in  sharp  arrises.  The  perfected  Ionic  left  a  band  of  the 
original  cylinder  between  the  flutings.  The  capital  has 
suggested  ram's  horns  and  the  curling  locks  of  lovely  woman, 
but  it  is  the  inventor  of  such  silliness  who  here  stoops  to 
folly.  The  volutes  were  originally  the  spiral  ornaments  of 
Persian  chairs.  The  Ionic  order  was  harmonious  through- 
out, the  entablature  sympathizing  with  the  column  in  its 
delicate  beauty.  This  statement  would  be  truer  turned 
about,  for,  as  in  the  Doric,  it  was  the  weight  and  character 
of  the  entablature  that  determined  the  character  of  the  col- 
umn, a  first  principle  in  logical  building.  In  Attica  the 
Ionic  order  never  competed  successfully  with  the  Doric,  and 
the  Corinthian  had  a  much  more  limited  vogue.  This  was 
not  in  reality  so  much  an  order  by  itself  as  a  variation  of 
the  Ionic  in  the  capital.  It  was  of  late  origin,  reaching  its 
normal  type  about  250  B.  c.  The  earliest  examples  are  more 
like  the  lotus-capital  of  Egypt  than  like  the  typical  Corin- 
thian, and  this  suggests  a  far  more  probable  history  than 
the  very  pretty,  very  silly  one  for  which  we  are  indebted  to 
Vitruvius — viz.,  that  it  represents  a  basket  of  toys  on  a 
sprouting  acanthus,  which  a  nurse  had  set  upon  the  grave 
of  a  young  girl.  It  was  simply  "  a  fanciful  and  ever-varied 
decoration  of  foliage  around  a  concave  calyx."  It  was  An- 
tiochus  Epiphanes,  the  Glorious  or  the  Mad,  the  same  that 
roused  the  Maccabees  to  victorious  insurrection  in  Judea, 
who  built  the  Corinthian  Temple  of  Olympian  Zeus  in 
Athens  about  170  B.  c.  This  was  on  the  very  eve  of  the 
Roman  conquest,  and  strangely  enough  the  architect  was  a 
Eoman.  The  capitals  were  of  the  most  florid  style,  and 
when  the  columns  were  carried  off  to  Rome  by  Sulla  they 
furnished  the  Romans  with  a  type  after  their  own  hearts — 
superb,  magnificent,  and  easily  abused. 

If  time  allowed,  it  could  be  shown  how  Greek  architecture 
was  throughout  obedient  to  the  principles  of  evolution  in 
the  struggle  for  existence  between  rival  forms,  the  preserva- 
tion of  the  fittest  being  steadily  assured.  The  course  of  de- 
velopment was  extremely  short ;  a  century  or  less  to  match 
each  slow  millennium  of  Egyptian  art.  Homer  knows 
nothing  of  columnar  architecture,  and  in  four  centuries  the 
Parthenon  crowns  at  once  the  Acropolis  and  the  completest 
cycle  of  development.  The  modern  archaeologist  was  not 
considered  in  the  least  by  the  builders  of  the  age  of  Pericles. 


The  Evolution  of  Architecture.  331 

In  the  rage  for  architectural  beauty  everything  short  of  the 
ideal  was  swept  away  as  proudly  as  the  Saxon  churches  of 
England  by  her  Norman  conquerors.  Happily  the  Eoman 
conquerors  of  Greece  did  not  destroy,  they  stole  her  temples 
and  her  statues.  Of  the  latter,  70,000  have  already  been  ex- 
humed in  Eome.  The  worst  they  did  was  to  debase  the 
architecture  of  Greece  on  her  own  soil.  They  dijd  not  know 
the  best,  and  so  they  left  the/ Parthenon,  "  the  glory  that 
was  Greece,"  to  shame  "  the-  grandeur  that  was  Eome  "  for 
twenty  centuries  of  wondering  time. 

The  origins  of  Eoman  architecture  are  much  more  clearly 
defined  than  those  of  Greece,  and  its  borrowings  were  much 
more  conspicuous.  These  were  from  the  Etruscans,  their 
next  neighbors  on  the  north,  and  from  the  Greeks,  who,  long 
before  their  conquest  by  the  Eomans,  had  covered  southern 
Italy,  called  Magna  Graecia,  with  great  examples  of  their 
architectural  taste  and  skill ;  that  of  Psestum  witnessing  to 
us  how  glorious  they  could  be.  The  general  popular  im- 
pression credits  Greece  with  much  too  large  a  part  of 
Eoman  architecture.  The  Grecian  part  was  superficial, 
decorative,  and  this  part  has  obscured  the  other,  the  funda- 
mental, the  structural,  in  which  Eome  achieved  a  very  great 
distinction.  But  here  again  she  was  no  more  original  than 
in  her  use  of  Grecian  elements.  We  penetrate  the  secret  of 
her  greatness,  if  I  may  say  so  without  offense,  by  way  of  the 
Cloaca  Maxima,  the  gigantic  sewer  built  for  her  by  Etruscan 
engineers  under  Tarquinius,  well  named  Superbus,  if  for  no 
other  reason  than  because  he  built  this  sewer,  without  which 
the  seven-hilled  city  would  have  sunk  into  the  ooze  of  the 
surrounding  plains.  It  would  have  been  a  fortunate  thing 
for  Eome  if  she  could  have  developed  her  architecture 
wholly  from  this  root.  Then  it  might  have  had  its  own 
appropriate  decoration,  which,  if  less  beautiful  than  that  it 
borrowed  from  the  Greeks,  would  have  been  more  rational 
and  organic.  It  made  use  of  the  Greek  forms  in  the  main 
only  to  debase  them  and  to  hide  the  structures  which  were 
characteristic  of  its  genius  and  could  not  have  been  too 
obviously  revealed.  It  made  use  of  its  Etruscan  origins  so 
freely,  so  boldly,  so  splendidly  that  the  credit  of  its  ulti- 
mate performance  can  no  more  be  given  to  the  Etruscans 
than  the  credit  of  Greek  architecture  can  be  given  to  the 
Egyptians  or  Iranians.  Great  architects  in  the  aesthetic 
sense  the  Eomans  never  were,  and  here  the  comparison  with 
Greece  was  greatly  to  their  disadvantage.  But  they  were 


332  The  Evolution  of  Architecture. 

great  builders.  They  built  with  tremendous  vigor,  boldness, 
grandeur,  ingenuity,  and  here  the  comparison  with  Greece, 
so  limited  in  her  structural  range,  is  greatly  to  their  advan- 
tage. In  those  stupendous  heaps  of  brick  and  rubble  which 
alone  remain  to  us  of  the  palace  of  the  Csesars  and  the 
baths  of  Caracalla,  the  appreciative  mind  finds  all  that  was 
foreign  to  the  Roman  genius  stripped  away,  and  what  re- 
mains is  superb  in  its  magnificent  suggestion  of  the  highest 
things. 

In  Eoman  architecture  we  have  five  different  columns  and 
their  respective  orders,  the  latter  much  confused,  and  even 
the  former  borrowing  freely  from  each  other  back  and  forth. 
Those  unknown  to  Greek  architecture  were  the  Tuscan  with 
its  round  unfluted  shaft,  and  the  Composite,  which  topped 
the  acanthus  capital  of  the  Corinthian  column  with  the 
volutes  of  the  Ionic,  a  combination  suiting  well  the  Roman 
passion  for  excessive  ornament.  This  was  the  passion  of 
imperial  days.  That,  in  the  simpler  days  of  the  Republic, 
the  Doric  order,  of  which  southern  Italy  and  Sicily  had  so 
many  brave  examples,  did  not  attract  the  Roman  builders 
is  perhaps  accounted  for  by  the  fact  that  in  the  unfluted 
Tuscan  they  had  an  even  simpler  form.  Certain  it  is  that 
when  they  came  to  borrow  largely  from  the  Greeks  in  the 
third  century  B.  c.,  it  was  not  the  Doric  but  the  Ionic  that 
they  borrowed.  This  they  not  only  borrowed,  but  debased, 
placing  the  volutes  on  all  four  sides,  thus  making  them  as 
merely  ornamental  as  they  had  been  in  their  original  Asiatic 
forms.  But  the  Corinthian  soon  displaced  the  Ionic  in  the 
general  taste,  and  when  the  two  had  been  united  in  unlawful 
marriage,  the  offspring — the  Composite — was  as  magnifi- 
cent as  the  proudest  Roman  could  desire. 

But  none  of  these  forms  was  used  in  that  logical  and 
organic  spirit  which  was  so  characteristic  of  the  Greeks. 
Meantime  it  was  not  in  their  sacred  buildings  that  the  gen- 
ius of  the  Romans  naturally  displayed  itself.  Their  religion 
was  a  function  of  the  state,  an  economy,  a  convenience,  and 
the  idea  of  use  was  central  to  their  architectural  genius. 
Use,  power,  pride,  luxury — these  were  the  ruling  passions  of 
imperial  Rome.  The  strength  she  felt  in  every  limb  of  her 
political  organization  she  loved  to  manifest  in  the  structure 
of  her  aqueducts,  her  basilicas,  her  triumphal  arches,  and  her 
baths.  And  the  initiative  of  this  splendid  manifestation 
came  from  the  arch  and  barrel  vault  of  her  Tuscan  neigh- 
bors, who  were  her  earliest  architects.  It  was  not  until  the 


The  Evolution  of  Architecture.  333 

second  century  B.  c.  that  the  cross-vault  with  its  important 
corollaries,  the  apse  and  dome,  gave  an  immense  extension 
to  those  possibilities  of  internal  grandeur  which  were  to  the 
Roman  all  that  the  possibilities  of  external  beauty  were  to 
the  Greek.  And  it  was  with  bricks  and  mortar  that  these 
possibilities  were  realized.  The  Romans  were  essentially  a 
brick-building  people,  and  the  loss  of  their  great  art  of  mak- 
ing an  adhesive,  binding  mortar  was  one  which  to  later 
builders  was  incomparably  great.  Marble  in  Rome  was  very 
scarce  indeed,  andjjsecLfef  little  else  than  ornament  outside 
and  in. 

Sewers  and  aqueducts  were  the  first  colossal  works  in 
which  the  Roman  passion  for  the  useful  found  expression. 
The  first  great  aqueduct,  however,  was  more  than  two  cent- 
uries later  than  the  first  great  sewer,  the  Cloaca  Maxima. 
The  next  four  hundred  years  (from  300  B.  c.  to  100  A.  D.) 
saw  thirteen  of  these  gigantic  works  threading  the  Campag- 
na,  some  of  them  bringing  their  crystal  flood  from  mount- 
ains forty  miles  away,  and  they  still  bring  it  (some  of  them) 
after  the  lapse  of  some  two  thousand  years.  The  great  city 
did  not  need  a  third  of  all  the  water  they  brought  for  its 
necessities.  It  needed  all  the  rest  for  its  eight  hundred  and 
fifty  private  baths,  opened  to  any  one  who  could  pay  the 
modest  price,  and  the  great  imperial  baths  that  welcomed  all 
alike  without  a  fee.  The  present  Pantheon  is  the  best  pre- 
served of  all  the  imperial  baths,  though  what  is  left  is  mere- 
ly the  great  central  hall,  one  of  the  noblest  interiors  in  the 
world.  The  grandeur  of  this  was  much  exceeded  by  the 
baths  of  Caracalla  and  Diocletian,  the  latter  capable  of  enter- 
taining three  thousand  bathers  at  once.  From  the  love  of 
pleasure  and  the  admiration  for  physical  courage  and  the 
political  necessities  of  the  times — "  Panem  et  circences  " — 
came  the  whole  system  of  buildings  of  which  the  theatre  of 
Maxentius,  the  Circus  Maximus,  and  the  Flavian  Amphi- 
theatre or  Colosseum  are  great  examples ;  triumphs  of  con- 
structive energy  and  skill,  incrusted  with  architectural  co- 
lumnar ornaments,  having  no  structural  function  to  perform. 
Such  monumental  columns  as  those  of  Trajan  and  Marcus 
Aurelius  are  as  peculiar  to  herself  as  anything  that  Rome 
can  show.  The  triumphal  arch  is  almost  equally  her  own. 
It  is  her  own  as  being  a  massive  building  with  a  decorative 
screen ;  her  own  as  an  expression  of  her  conquering  zeal  and 
pride.  The  pyramids  of  Egypt  do  not  tell  the  story  of  their 
origin  in  the  burial  mound  more  clearly  than  the  arch  the 


334  The  Evolution  of  Architecture. 

story  of  its  origin  in  the  festal  wooden  arch,  a  painted  com- 
pliment, or  wreathed  with  flowers  and  green.  We  have  had 
a  very  recent  object  lesson  in  this  kind  of  evolution.  I 
refer,  of  course,  to  the  centennial  arch  of  1889  set  up  in 
Washington  Square,  New  York.  The  people  liked  it  and 
said :  "  Come,  let  us  put  it  into  stone."  The  arch  of  Constan- 
tino is  very  beautiful  to  look  upon,  if  one  is  not  a  purist  in 
his  architectural  ideas.  Nevertheless,  as  one  passes  under  it 
he  passes  out  of  Roman  architecture  into  a  period  of  archi- 
tectural darkness  centuries  long.  The  arch  of  the  first 
Christian  Emperor,  it  is  built  out  of  the  stolen  substance 
and  decorated  with  the  stolen  ornaments  of  the  arch  of 
Hadrian.  What  better  symbol  could  we  have  of  that "  unex- 
ampled poverty  of  artistic  invention  "  which  marked  the  de- 
velopment of  Christian  Rome  for  an  ill  thousand  years  ? 

And  still  the  line  of  evolution  did  not  break.  But  the 
Roman  building  to  which  it  attached  itself  was  neither  aque- 
duct, nor  amphitheatre,  nor  bath,  nor  arch-triumphal.  It 
was  the  basilica,  the  name  of  which  passed  over  with  the 
thing,  and  it  is  of  the  Basilica  of  St.  Peter's  that  we  hear  in 
our  time.  But  the  evolution  followed  the  line  of  Christian 
worship,  which,  beginning  in  the  private  dining-room,  passed 
into  the  private  basilica,  or  ceremonial  hall.  This  and  not 
the  public  forensic  basilica  fixed  the  type  of  the  early  Chris- 
tian churches  of  the  West.  We  have  still  remaining  splen- 
did examples  of  those  churches  in  San  Pietro  in  Vincolo,  in 
Santa  Maria  Maggiore,  and  in  St.  Paul's  outside  the  walls. 
The  last,  although  well-nigh  destroyed  by  fire  in  1823,  has 
been  restored  in  perfect  sympathy  with  the  original  design. 
In  the  other  two,  when  you  go  to  see  Michel  Angelo's 
"  Moses "  or  the  mosaics  of  Cimabue,  you  have  on  either 
hand  majestic  columns  that  have  served  their  present  use 
some  fifteen  hundred  years,  and  before  that  they  had  some 
centuries  of  history  as  the  bath  or  temple  columns  of  the 
pagan  city. 

The  sixth  century  was  one  of  the  great  building  centuries 
of  architectural  history  ;  hardly  less  so  than  the  century  of 
Pericles  in  Greece  and  Hadrian  in  Rome,  and  the  thirteenth 
century,  which  saw  Amiens  and  Salisbury  and  Burgos  rising 
simultaneously  into  the  wondering  and  astonished  air.  It 
was  the  century  of  Justinian,  the  Eastern  Empire's  most 
imperial  man,  during  whose  reign  and  by  whose  inspiration 
twenty-five  churches  of  magnificent  size  and  splendid  deco- 
ration were  built  in  Constantinople,  all  in  the  Byzantine 


The  Evolution  of  Architecture.  335 

style.  This  style  was  very  far  from  being  a  debased  Roman 
style,  as  many  enthusiasts  for  the  Gothic  and  the  Greco- 
Roman  have  too  willingly  believed.  It  was  more  Roman 
than  the  Roman.  It  recognized  the  superficiality  of  the 
Greco- Roman  decoration,  a  veil  that  hid  the  structural  prop- 
erties of  a  constructive  art  that  had  no  call  to  be  ashamed. 
It  stripped  away  all  this,  or  kept  only  so  much  as  served  a 
purpose.  Ravenna  and  Milan/^the  Christian  church  of  San 
Lorenzo)  and  Constantinople  are  rival  claimants  for  the 
honor  of  this  new—xlepafture.  But  what  is  certain  is  that 
Constantinople  developed  it  the  most  freely  and  that  there 
the  decorative  qualities  of  the  style  were  taken  on.  I  say 
"  were  taken  on,"  for  that  they  were  original  with  Byzan- 
tium no  one  has  so  far  essayed  to  prove.  They  have  a  dis- 
tinct Oriental  quality.  The  capital  especially  has  no  classical 
traits.  Judea  has  been  treated  so  contemptuously  by  the 
architectural  critic,  as  if  she  had  no  architectural  life  in  her- 
self, that  her  horn  may  well  be  exalted  by  the  suggestion  of 
Viollet  le  Due  that  Byzantine  ornament  detached  itself 
from  the  friezes,  capitals,  and  spandrels  of  Jerusalem,  where 
their  derivative  history  is  lost  in  the  dim  labyrinth  of  Orien- 
tal art. 

Meantime  Germany  and  France  were  carrying  on  the  de- 
velopment of  the  old  basilica  by  methods  which  received 
only  the  most  superficial  aid  from  the  Byzantine  school — 
the  development  which  is  called  Norman,  as  it  was,  in  Eng- 
land, but  in  Germany  and  France  is  known  as  Romanic,  or 
more  commonly  as  Romanesque.  If  these  designations  are 
not  altogether  vain,  the  line  of  evolution  was  not  broken 
here  any  more  than  it  had  been  between  Egypt  and  Asia 
and  Greece,  or  between  Greece  and  Etruria  and  Rome,  or  be- 
tween Rome  and  the  Byzantine  architects,  who  were  truer  to 
her  genius  than  she  was  herself.  But  Romanesque  is  itself 
a  species  which  has  several  distinct  varieties,  as  different  as 
the  Cathedral  of  Pisa  is  from  Speyer  and  both  from  Dur- 
ham, while  southern  France  has  its  own  special  traits.  In 
southern  France  there  were  more  Greco-Roman  architectural 
"remains  than  Italy  could  boast.  And  from  the  influence  of 
these  the  Provenqal  architects  could  not  escape.  They  clung 
to  classical  details.  If  they  did  not  incorporate  the  columns 
and  the  entablatures  of  old  Roman  buildings  in  their  churches, 
they  copied  them  with  free  or  careless  hand.  But  at  the 
same  time  they  engaged  the  column  that  had  been  merely 
ornamental  and  gave  it  real  work  to  do — something  to  actually 


336  The  Evolution  of  Architecture. 

support — and  the  beginnings  of  all  possible  sincerity  were  in 
this  half-unconscious  step.  Necessity  is  the  mother  of  in- 
vention, and  as  the  paucity  of  Roman  ruins  in  Ravenna  put 
her  architects  upon  their  mettle  till  they  said  "  So  much  the 
better ! "  so  in  Germany  the  same  paucity,  the  same  lack  of 
Roman  material  to  steal  or  copy,  brought  about  a  much  more 
original  style  than  southern  France  or  Italy  attained.  But 
this  German  Romanesque,  which  reached  its  climax  in  the 
noble  symmetry  of  Speyer,  the  cathedral  of  that  city,  was, 
after  all,  a  primitive  Romanesque  carried  to  its  farthest  point 
of  characteristic  excellence.  It  is  a  Romanesque  that  has  a 
closer  cousinship  with  the  towers  of  Lombardy  and  of  Saxon 
England  than  with  the  sturdy  strength  of  Caen  and  Dur- 
ham. And  here  again  we  have  a  capital  illustration  of  evo- 
lutionary principles.  The  type  became  so  definitely  fixed 
that  there  was  no  chance  for  the  varieties.  The  consequence 
was  that  Germany  never  developed  a  type  of  Romanesque  so 
liberal  and  expansive  as  that  of  France  and  England  in  the 
eleventh  and  twelfth  centuries :  So  joined  was  she  to  her 
idols,  that  the  Gothic  could  not  persuade  her  to  abandon 
them.  The  German  Gothic  of  Cologne  and  Strassburg 
and  Freiburg  is  merely  a  French  importation,  not  a  native 
growth. 

For  beauty  of  Romanesque  detail  we  go  to  southern 
France,  but  for  the  free  development  of  a  Romanesque,  as 
self-centered  as  the  Gothic  in  its  magnificent  virility,  we  must 
go  to  Normandy  and  to  the  England  of  the  Norman  Kings. 
In  Caen  and  Durham  we  have  the  best  examples  of  this 
noble  and  impressive  style.  Why  call  it  Romanesque  ?  For 
one  thing  it  reproduces  the  forms  of  the  Roman  basilica, 
where  the  Byzantine  rooted  back  into  such  Roman  circular 
tombs  or  mortuary  chapels  as  those  of  S.  Constanza  and 
Minerva  Medica.  For  another  thing  it  is  essentially  Roman 
in  its  construction.  It  is  more  frankly  Roman  than  the 
Roman.  It  confesses  its  structural  character  where  the 
Roman  architecture  of  the  Empire  disguised  it  with  a  veneer 
of  lying  ornament.  In  the  nave  of  Durham  and  the  tran- 
sept of  Winchester  there  is  nothing  to  remind  us  of  Rome's 
borrowed  ornament.  There  is  everything  to  remind  us  of 
the  Rome  that  built  the  aqueducts  of  the  Campagna  and  the 
arches  of  the  Colosseum.  Reversion  is  a  principle  of  evolu- 
tion of  which  Darwin  had  a  good  deal  to  say.  In  Norman 
Romanesque  we  have  a  reversion  to  the  Roman  type  of  sim- 
ple strength,  unspoiled  by  foreign  drapery. 


The  Evolution  of  Architecture.  337 

If  I  had  time  I  should  like  at  this  point  to  make  a  brief 
excursion  into  the  field  of  Moorish  architecture.  It  has  no 
structural  logic  that  we  should  desire  it.  It  needs  all  the 
beauty  of  its  flat  or  colored  decoration  to  distract  us  from 
the  ugliness  of  its  pendentives  and  other  forms  which  seem 
to  ape  the  crystalline  drippings  of  some  wondrous  cave. 
But  the  decoration  is  marvelously  beautiful  and  has  an  evo- 
lutionary tale  to  tell  of  great/simplicity ;  for  it  is  evident 
that  in  this  decoration  we  have  a  survival  of  textile  fabrics 
hung  upon  the  waU^of^nbsques  and  palaces.  In  the  wide 
family  connection  of  those  who  are  only  happy  when  af- 
fronting some  received  opinion,  there  are  those  who  think 
that  all  the  credit  of  Gothic  architecture  belongs  to  the 
Mohammedans.  These  are  those  who  think  Bacon  wrote 
Shakspere,  and  Thomas  Paine  the  Letters  of  Junius  and 
the  Declaration  of  Independence,  and  that  Jesus  of  Naza- 
reth is  a  poor  copy  of  Gautama  Buddha.  Unquestionably 
the  Mohammedans  used  the  pointed  arch.  They  had  bor- 
rowed it,  as  nearly  all  their  architectural  forms,  from  Orien- 
tal art.  Mohammedan  architecture  is  ten  times  as  much 
indebted  to  the  Christian  art  of  Byzantium  as  is  Christian 
architecture  to  it.  But  nothing  could  be  more  absurd  than 
the  idea  that  Gothic  architecture  came  from  the  borrowings 
of  the  pointed  arch  or  from  any  special  fondness  for  this 
particular  form.  Such  an  idea  is  of  a  piece  with  the  old 
biology  which  classified  animal  life  by  its  external  forms 
until  Buffon  decided  that  the  crocodile  was  "  altogether  too 
terrible  an  insect "  to  be  classed  as  one.  Gothic  architect- 
ure was  another  daughter  of  necessity.  "We  might  never 
have  had  it  if  timber  roofs  hadn't  had  such  a  vile  way  of 
burning  up.  Again  we  might  never  have  had  it  if  the 
builders  of  the  eleventh  and  twelfth  centuries  could  have 
made  as  good  mortar  as  the  Romans  did  who  built  the 
Pantheon.  To  replace  timber  roofing  with  stone  vaulting 
was  the  problem  of  the  mediaeval  architect.  To  do  that, 
he  strengthened  the  side-walls  of  his  cathedral.  But  this 
device  was  both  costly  and  insufficient.  His  next  move  was 
to  abandon  the  continuous  barrel  vault  and  take  to  groin- 
ing, opposite  the  thrusts  of  which  he  placed  external  but- 
tresses. This  was  the  Norman  Romanesque.  Then  he 
perceived  that  the  walls  between  his  buttresses  had  no  func- 
tional character.  They  were  almost  as  useless,  save  to  keep 
out  the  weather,  as  the  ornamental  incrustations  of  imperial 
Rome.  Thin  walls  would  do  this  as  well  as  thick,  and 


338  The  Evolution  of  Architecture. 

glass  as  well  as  stone.  Glass  would,  moreover,  let  in  the 
light,  and  this  glass  could  be  stained  "  with  forms  of  saints 
and  holy  men  who  died,  here  martyred  and  hereafter  glori- 
fied." Such  was  the  evolution  of  Gothic  architecture.  If 
the  primitive  Romanesque  had  its  complete  development  in 
Germany,  culminating  in  the  Cathedral  of  Speyer,  and  the 
later  Komanesque  had  its  complete  development  in  Eng- 
land, where  Durham  is  its  great  example,  Gothic  not  only 
had  its  complete  development  in  Prance,  but  it  had  it  only 
there,  the  Gothic  of  Spain  and  Germany  being  almost 
wholly  French  and  only  different  to  be  less,  while  the 
Gothic  of  Italy  and  England  is  never  structurally  Gothic  in 
the  fullest  sense,  but  a  matter  of  Gothic  ornaments  and  de- 
tails inhering  in  a  building  of  Romanesque  construction. 
Gothic  architecture  in  France  was  first  distinctly  and  sys- 
tematically applied  to  a  great  edifice  in  the  building  of 
the  Notre  Dame  of  Paris.  There  the  system  of  opposing 
thrusts  was  everywhere  substituted  for  the  inertia  of  great 
masses.  In  Amiens  the  new  system  reached  its  most  com- 
plete expression  in  the  thirteenth  century.  The  building 
of  Salisbury  was  almost  exactly  contemporaneous  with  that 
of  Amiens  and  Burgos— from  1220  to  1260.  But  both 
Salisbury  and  Burgos  are  essentially  walled  buildings ;  that 
is,  their  strength  depends  largely  on  their  walls,  not  on  the 
opposing  thrusts  of  their  functional  frame-work.  This 
does  not  prevent  their  being  buildings  of  marvelous  beauty. 

The  Gothic  had  an  internal  evolution,  more  or  less  sig- 
nificant as  it  was  here  or  there.  In  France  it  passed  from 
the  early  decoration  to  a  more  elaborate,  from  the  flame- 
like  character  of  the  window-tracery  called  flamboyant.  In 
England  also  the  different  stages  are  named  after  the  tra- 
cery, which,  beginning  with  the  lancet,  single  or  in  groups, 
passed  into  the  decorated,  in  which  flowing  lines  predomi- 
nate ;  thence  to  the  perpendicular,  in  which  the  flowing  lines 
are  cut  by  perpendicular  mullions  and  there  is  a  general 
accentuation  of  perpendicular  and  horizontal  lines.  The 
evolutionary  principle  of  correlated  growth  finds  many 
happy  illustrations  in  this  process,  as  where  the  flattening 
of  the  roof  over  the  aisles  extinguished  the  triforium,  the 
arcade  between  the  lower  and  upper  stories  of  the  cathe- 
dral nave  or  choir 

The  architecture  which  followed  Gothic  was  the  Renais- 
sance. It  was  a  dubious  return  to  what  was  worst  in  the 
Greco-Roman  architecture  of  the  second  century,  and  hence 


The  Evolution  of  Architecture.  339 

its  name.  Therefore  as  a  re-birth  it  was  far  less  truly  Ro- 
man  than  the  Romanesque.  Superficial  in  its  very  nature,  it 
began  very  superficially.  You  are  assisting  at  its  birth  in 
England  when  you  are  standing  by  the  tomb  of  Henry  VII 
in  his  famous  Chapel  at  Westminster,  a  sample  of  the  Tudor 
Gothic  gone  to  seed.  No  wonder  that  men  wished  a 
change.  Inigo  Jones  plastered  a  classic  portico  on  the 
front  of  old  Saint  Paul's  which  the  Great  Fire  of  1666 
mercifully  destroyed,  though.it  threw  out  the  baby  with  the 
bath — destroyed  4h^  building  altogether.  In  France  the 
marrying  of  Gothic  structure  with  classic  ornament  pro- 
duced some  beautiful  results,  especially  in  domestic  archi- 
tecture— the  sixteenth  century  chateaus.  Of  the  completed 
Renaissance  development,  St.  Peter's  is  the  most  stupen- 
dous, St.  Paul's  the  most  symmetrical  example.  In  our  own 
time  England  has  had  a  Gothic  revival,  of  which  the  best 
result  has  been  the  restoration  of  her  cathedrals.  It  is,  or 
was,  one  aspect  of  the  mediaeval  revival  of  which  the  Ox- 
ford movement  was  a  part.  William  George  Ward  was  one 
of  Newman's  followers  who  came  in  ahead  of  him  in  the 
race  to  Rome.  "  To  think  of  such  a  man  as  Ward  living  in 
a  room  without  mullions !  "  said  Pugin,  the  Gothic  archi- 
tect. But  when  Newman  went  to  Rome  he  abjured  Goth- 
ic for  the  Renaissance,  "the  architecture  of  pomp  and 
pride."  The  Houses  of  Parliament  are  certainly  an  im- 
posing example  of  the  perpendicular  style,  though  their 
horizontal  lines  are  most  conspicuous  and  aggressive.  Will- 
iam Morris  does  not  like  them  and  contemplates  with  com- 
placency a  future  when  they  will  be  economized  for  the  stor- 
age of  manure.  But  his  dislike  of  the  laws  made  in  them, 
and  in  fact  of  all  laws,  may  have  much  to  do  with  this. 

Of  our  American  reversions  and  revivals  I  should  like  to 
speak,  but  my  hour  is  out  and  there  is  one  coming  after  me 
who  will  be  preferred  before  me.  I  console  myself  with 
thinking  I  know  as  much  about  his  architecture  as  he  does 
about  my  theology. 

I  trust  I  have  made  good  the  title  of  my  address.  I 
trust  that  I  have  shown  that  architecture  has  had  an  evolu- 
tion and  not  merely  a  history ;  that  with  much  of  imitation 
there  is  much  more  of  genetic  relation ;  that  every  present 
brings  something  from  its  past  and  leaves  something  for  its 
future ;  that  the  evolutionary  principles  of  fixity  of  type  and 
variation,  struggle  for  existence,  preservation  of  the  fittest, 
reversion,  correlation  of  growth,  influence  of  the  environ- 


340  The  Evolution  of  Architecture. 

ment,  are  not  strange  to  any  part  of  the  long  course  over 
which  we  have  passed  so  hastily.  If  the  time  had  been  suffi- 
cient for  me  to  speak  elaborately  of  transitional  forms,  and 
if  I  could  have  accompanied  my  text  with  illustrative  plans 
and  sketches,  the  evolutionary  character  of  the  record 
would  have  been  much  more  pronounced. 


The  Evolution  of  Architecture.  341 


ABSTRACT  OF  THE   DISCUSSION. 

MR.  ALBERT  L.  BROCKWAY  : 

I  must  beg  to  differ  with  Mr.  Chadwick  in  the  idea  that  archi- 
tecture has  been  the  field  of  an  evolution  similar  to  that  in  the  or- 
ganic world  and  in  the  scientifio^sense.  In  the  organic  world  evolution 
has  resulted  from  the^aetion  of  inherent  forces.  Architecture  has 
been  created  by  an  external  power.  It  is  the  work  of  men's  hands 
and  minds.  Any  evolution  in  architecture — using  this  term  in  the 
sense  of  growth  or  development — has  been  the  result  of  man's  mental 
activity.  The  growth,  therefore,  is  not  inherent.  The  combination 
of  arch  and  column  was  not  an  inherent  product  in  the  Greek  temple. 
We  now  can  see  the  possibility  of  the  combination.  The  so-called 
Romanesque  vault  did  not  imply  the  Gothic  vault.  Evolution  or  un- 
folding we  can  find  in  any  architectural  style  from  its  inception  to  its 
decline,  but  as  we  advance  from  style  to  style  we  do  not  necessarily  go 
on  from  perfect  to  more  perfect  with  occasional  backward  steps,  as  we 
do  in  the  organic  world.  It  may  be  admitted  that  there  is  evolution 
backward  as  well  as  forward,  but  the  grand  general  trend  is  onward. 
Who  can  presume  to  say  that  the  most  perfect  Gothic  cathedral  is 
more  perfect  than  the  Greek  Parthenon!  Yet  from  the  evolution 
point  of  view  it  should  be  so.  Each  is  a  growth,  in  its  style  depending 
upon  considerations  of  climate,  customs  of  people,  and  material  at 
hand. 

Architecture  is  essentially  a  product  of  the  people.  It  grew  as  they 
grew.  Painting  and  sculpture  were  allied  arts,  and  decorative  rather 
than  substantial  and  useful.  From  the  first  necessity  to  protect  and 
cover  himself,  to  making  a  fit  place  for  showing  his  love  and  reverence 
for  a  Divine  being,  the  building  has  grown.  When  the  Communes 
were  established  in  France,  but  more  particularly  in  Flanders  and  the 
Low  Countries,  we  see  the  beautiful  town  hall  spring  up  to  meet  the 
want.  The  church  of  the  middle  ages  may  resemble  the  Roman 
basilica,  but  constructively  it  differs  widely  therefrom.  The  very  rise 
in  power  of  the  bishops  by  associating  with  the  kingly  power  against 
the  abbots,  who  were  generally  powerful  barons,  is  a  very  potent  fac- 
tor in  the  springing  up  all  over  France  in  particular  and  Europe  in 
general  of  the  vast  cathedral  churches.  Here  again  it  was  the  growth 
in  the  people  that  induced  the  growth  in  the  art. 

The  plan  is  the  essential  feature  of  an  architectural  production. 


342  The  Evolution  of  Architecture. 

The  elevation  expresses,  in  a  general  artistic  and  constructive  way, 
the  disposition  within.  The  plan  is  the  characteristic  note,  the  mo- 
tive of  the  creation,  and  that  arises  from  the  surrounding  conditions 
and  circumstances  of  the  daily  life.  Our  American  house-plans  and 
office-building  plans  are  essentially  American  and  are  indigenous.  To 
cover  them  with  a  face  consisting  of  some  Romanesque  or  Gothic  de- 
tail and  call  them,  accordingly,  Romanesque  or  Gothic,  is  therefore  a 
misapplication  of  terms.  I  wish  to  affirm  that  there  is  an  American 
architecture,  at  least  in  infancy,  and  it  is  a  well-developed  infant,  too. 

MB,.  CHADWICK,  in  reply,  said  :  There  is  an  evolution  of  degenera- 
tion as  well  as  of  advance,  and  the  doctrine  explicitly  recognizes  both 
of  these  processes.  A  Gothic  cathedral,  for  instance,  is  not  a  finer 
piece  of  architecture  than  the  Parthenon,  though  it  is  of  later  origin, 
yet  both  are  products  of  evolution.  Over  and  above  the  evolution  or 
decay  of  special  or  local  types  there  has  been  a  broad  evolutionary  line 
of  architectural  development  from  Egypt  to  Greece,  Rome,  Byzantium, 
and  the  later  Western  European  forms.  The  great  churches  all  root 
back  into  the  basilica,  though  widely  separated  in  locality  and  time. 
Architecture,  in  its  various  forms,  undoubtedly  expresses  the  domi- 
nant life  of  the  people.  Where  that  dominant  life  was  religious  we 
find  it  expressed  in  churches  and  cathedrals.  The  dominant  life  in 
America  is  the  business  life ;  hence  we  find  that  architecture  in  this 
country  takes  its  most  characteristic  form  in  our  business  buildings 
and  private  houses.  Architecture,  in  its  earlier  stages,  however,  never 
was  a  popular  art.  The  great  monuments  of  Egypt  were  built  under 
the  lash.  In  Rome  the  noted  buildings  were  erected  by  the  rulers, 
not  by  the  populace.  The  Gothic  cathedrals,  on  the  contrary,  were 
built  by  the  Communes. 


THE 
EVOLUTION  OF  SCULPTURE 


BY 

THOMAS  DAVIDSON. 


COLLATERAL  READINGS  SUGGESTED: 

Articles  Archaeology  and  Sculpture  in  American  Cyclopaedia  and 
Encyclopaedia  Britannica;  Liibke's  History  of  Art  and  History  of 
Sculpture ;  Harriet  Hosmer's  Process  of  Sculpture,  in  Atlantic  Month- 
ly, vol.  xiv,  1864 ;  Miss  Harrison's  Sculpture  in  the  United  States,  in 
Atlantic  Monthly,  vol.  xxii,  1868 ;  Grattan's  Book  on  Sculpture ;  Ja- 
cob's Wealth  of  the  Greeks  in  Plastic  Art;  Flaxman's  Lectures  on 
Sculpture ;  Perkins's  Tuscan  Sculpture ;  Kobinson's  Italian  Sculpture 
of  the  Middle  Ages ;  Westmacott's  Schools  of  Sculpture,  Ancient  and 
Modern ;  Ruskin's  Aratra  Pentelici ;  Agincourt's  Histoire  de  1' Art. 


THE  EVOLUTION  OF  SCULPTURE. 

BY  THOMAS  DAVIDSON. 


X  we  speak  of  the  evolution  of  anything  due  to  con- 
scious human  exertion,  we  mean  at  bottom  the  evolution  of 
a  certain  human  faculty.  The  product  of  this  faculty  is 
merely  the  means  and  proof  of  its  development,  and  this 
development  is  the  real  end  of  the  product.  In  all  things 
done  by  man,  man  is  the  end,  and  his  deeds  and  products 
are  but  means.  Man  does  not  exist  to  develop  the  world  ; 
the  world  exists  to  develop  man  ;  for  the  world  is  made  for 
man,  and  not  man  for  the  world. 

The  law  observed  by  Aristotle  to  hold  good  for  political 
institutions  is  universal  —  viz.  :  this,  that  all  human  faculties 
and  products  are  at  first  developed  by  physical  needs,  and, 
when  so  developed,  are  transferred  so  as  to  subserve  the  evo- 
lution of  spiritual  faculties.  The  faculty  that  held  together 
and  governed  the  Roman  Empire,  the  faculty  that  sustains 
this  great  Republic,  started  in  its  career  in  the  humble  form 
of  sexual  and  domestic  instinct  holding  together  and  ruling 
the  family.  The  faculty  that  shaped  the  marbles  of  the 
Parthenon  and  the  Praxitelean  Hermes  began  by  molding 
soft  clay  into  rude  drinking-cups  and  chipping  flint  for 
arrow-heads  to  kill  game  for  food.  The  faculty  that  com- 
posed the  symphonies  of  Beethoven  and  the  operas  of  TVag- 
ner  began  by  singing  lullabies  to  restless  babies.  And  so 
on  through  all  the  arts. 

So  long  as  human  actions  and  products  are  the  result  and 
satisfaction  of  purely  physical  needs,  they  do  not  essentially 
differ  from  the  actions  and  products  of  the  lower  animals  ; 
but,  as  soon  as  they  rise  above  this,  the  former  enter  the 
sphere  of  ethics,  the  latter  the  sphere  of  art,  both  of  which 
belong  to  man  only  as  an  eternal  being,  having  no  meaning 
for  any  other. 

Art  begins  when  physical  things  —  clay,  wood,  stone, 
color,  sound  —  are  used  to  give  expression  to  thoughts  or 
conceptions,  so  that  they  may  be  reflected  back  upon  the 
artist,  or  upon  men  similarly  endowed,  through  their  senses, 
and  thus  permanently  grasped  and  realized.  Art  is  human 
24 


346  TJie  Evolution  of  Sculpture. 

creation  in  the  strictest  sense.  The  product  of  art  is  always 
a  mirror  held  up,  not  to  nature  (for  that  is  already  a  mirror, 
the  mirror  of  God),  but  to  the  soul  of  man,  so  that  it  may 
behold  and  know  itself — become  self-conscious. 

I  wish  to  insist  particularly  upon  this  point,  because  it  is 
fundamental  in  any  conception  of  art,  and  must  be  clearly 
grasped  before  the  phrase  "  evolution  of  art "  can  have  any 
intelligible  meaning.  Art  is  an  expression  of  man's  inner 
nature  imprinted  upon  matter,  so  as  to  appeal  to  his  senses, 
which  deal  only  with  matter,  and  through  which  he  obtains 
experience.  "Whatever  fails  to  do  this  is  not  art.  Whatever 
is  a  mere  copy  of  outward  nature,  such  as  the  sun  can  im- 
print upon  a  photographic  plate,  and  whatever  shows  only  the 
action  of  physical  forces,  whether  in  nature  or  in  man,  has 
no  claim  to  be  called  art.  All  this  is  simply  nature,  and 
art,  as  Goethe  says,  is  called  art  just  because  it  is  not  nature. 
The  more  fully,  deeply,  accurately  a  human  product  bodies 
forth  man's  inner  nature,  his  freedom,  his  love,  his  wisdom, 
the  more  truly  is  it  a  work  of  art ;  and  no  amount  of  tech- 
nical skill  in  the  way  of  imitation  can  vindicate  for  art  a 
work  in  which  these  attributes  find  no  expression.  For  this 
reason  the  rude  reliefs  which  we  find  upon  the  clay  tablets 
of  Babylon  and  Nineveh  are  far  more  truly  works  of  art  than 
many  of  the  works  of  sculpture  and  painting  which  adorn 
our  museums,  and  excite  our  admiration  by  their  technical 
skill,  but  are  void  of  content.  Skill  is  not  art,  but  only  art's 
handmaid.  The  workman  who  has  only  skill,  but  nothing 
worthy  to  express  thereby,  is  no  more  an  artist  than  a  fine 
penman  is  a  good  correspondent  or  journalist. 

The  human  soul  realizes  itself  in  matter  in  various  ways 
and  by  various  means,  and  this  realization  has  in  each  case 
an  evolution  and  a  history,  which  begin  at  the  point  where 
a  process  previously  used  to  satisfy  a  physical  need  is  em- 
ployed to  express  a  spiritual  act.  The  transition  is  by  no 
means  an  abrupt  one,  and  there  are  many  primitive  objects 
of  human  shaping  of  which  it  would  be  hard  to  say  whether 
they  belong  to  the  region  of  art  or  not.  Of  this  nature  are 
the  rude  faces  and  figures  upon  funeral  urns.  Is  the  pur- 
pose of  these  to  alleviate  physical  suffering  or  grief,  or  is  it 
to  express  a  spiritual  hope  ?  Who  can  tell  ?  May  it  not  be 
partly  both  ?  Is  not  the  hope  originally  born  of  the  grief  ? 
Is  this  not  the  very  function  of  grief,  to  mother  hope  ?  Of 
the  same  doubtful  nature  is  much  of  the  architecture  and 
pottery  of  all  ages.  It  is  difficult  to  say  when  a  building  or 


The  Evolution  of  Sculpture.  347 

a  race  rises  above  physical  usefulness  into  expression.  All 
depends  upon  the  aim  which  the  artist  has  set  himself. 

So  much  for  art  in  general.  My  theme  at  present  is 
sculpture  and  its  evolution.  For  the  sake  of  freedom  of 
treatment,  I  shall  make  sculpture  include  all  the  arts  termed 
plastic,  as  distinguished  from  the  graphic,  literary,  and  mu- 
sical arts.  Indeed,  the  evolution  of  sculpture  could  hardly 
be  treated  without  this  extension.  By  sculpture,  then,  I 
mean  the  molding  or  cutting  of  solid  matter  with  a  view  to 
making  its  form  express  some  inward  idea  or  emotion  of  the 
soul.  It  is  evident  from  this  definition  that  the  evolution 
of  sculpture  will  include  three  elements :  (1)  Evolution  in 
the  choice  of  materials ;  (2)  evolution  in  manipulatory  pro- 
cesses; (3)  evolution  in  ideas  to  be  expressed.  Eoughly 
speaking,  these  three  elements  develop  simultaneously,  al- 
though sometimes  one  outruns  another.  As  men's  ideas 
deepen,  so  their  power  to  fashion  matter  increases,  and 
hence  they  will  go  on  choosing  matter  more  and  more  diffi- 
cult to  fashion. 

The  first  material  of  sculpture  was,  in  all  probability, 
soft  clay ;  the  first  process,  molding  with  the  fingers ;  the 
first  embodied  ideas,  the  rude  conceptions  of  beings  in  the 
unseen  world — men,  animals,  monsters.  In  saying  this,  I 
do  not  mean  to  imply  that  men  did  not  copy  things  in  the 
seen  world  before  they  tried  to  body  forth  things  in  the  un- 
seen ;  but  I  mean  that  the  former  process  was  not  art,  and 
therefore  not  sculpture.  Art  begins  with  the  first  attempt 
to  portray  the  unseen  as  it  lies  in  the  human  soul.  At  first 
the  unseen  world  is  conceived  very  much  after  the  fashion 
of  the  seen,  and  this  could  not  be  otherwise,  for  obvious 
reasons ;  only  the  conditions  of  life  in  it  are  conceived  as 
more  attractive  and  easy.  It  contains  sun  and  moon,  men 
and  animals,  which,  accordingly,  are  the  earliest  objects 
represented.  The  number  of  clay  men  and  animals  that 
have  come  down  to  us  from  the  prehistoric  ages  is  very 
great.  They  are  to  be  found  in  almost  every  museum  of 
palaeontology.  Along  with  these  rude,  clay-molded  prod- 
ucts, and  perhaps  originating  later,  are  figures  scratched  on 
sandstone  and  on  bone,  many  of  which  have  been  found  in 
caves  and  near  the  dwellings  of  primitive  men.  In  these  we 
'  find  a  forward  step  in  technique — the  use  of  a  sharp  instru- 
ment— but  we  find  no  advance  in  thought  or  imagination. 

The  first  material  cut  into  shape  for  art  ends  was  almost 
certainly  wood.  This,  however,  is  of  so  perishable  a  nature 


348  The  Evolution  of  Sculpture. 

that  few,  if  any,  very  ancient  or  primitive  specimens  have 
come  down  to  us.  Molding,  scratching,  wood-cutting,  were 
the  three  primitive,  we  might  say  preparatory,  forms  of 
sculpture.  It  is  not  uninteresting  to  observe  that  they  are 
all  three  still  used  as  preparatory  to  sculpture.  The  pencil 
sketch  drawn  by  the  artist  represents  the  scratching,  while 
the  model  composed  of  wood  (or  iron)  and  soft  clay  recalls 
the  other  two  processes. 

There  can  hardly  be  any  doubt  that  in  the  art  progress  of 
all  civilized  nations  there  has  been  a  molding  and  scratching 
period,  succeeded  by  a  wood-cutting  period.  By  the  end  of 
the  latter  men  have  begun  to  conceive  the  unseen  world  as 
in  many  ways  different  from  the  seen — its  denizens  as  dif- 
ferent, especially  in  the  direction  of  power,  swiftness,  etc. 
Hence  we  find  growing  up  what  we  may  call  the  monstrous 
— men  with  numerous  arms,  legs,  and  even  bodies;  men 
with  bodies  of  horses,  lions,  oxen,  and  even  serpents.  The 
monstrous  in  strength  is  the  first  element  that  differentiates 
the  unseen  world  from  the  seen.  It  is  at  this  date  that  all 
such  things  appear  as  hundred-handed  giants,  centaurs, 
minotaurs,  priapi,  seraphim,  cherubim  (which  is  the  same 
word  as  griffin),  and  dragons  of  all  sorts.  They  are  all  ex- 
pressions of  power,  mere  brute  force,  the  first  form  in  which 
the  unseen  is  recognized.  The  fear  of  the  Lord  is  the  be- 
ginning of  art  as  well  as  of  wisdom.  At  this  stage  art  has 
nothing  whatever  to  do  with  beauty,  for  mere  brute  force  is 
never  beautiful.  Although  we  have  few  or  no  wooden  sculpt- 
ures from  ancient  times,  we  know,  from  the  contemporary 
myths  as  well  as  from  the  rude  sculptures  of  semi-barbarous 
peoples  still  existing,  what  those  early  sculptures  were  like. 
Moreover,  the  monstrous  is  carried  over  into  the  next  period, 
to  be  there  gradually  contrasted  with,  and  elevated  by,  the 
principle  of  that  period.  The  principle  of  the  period  of  hu- 
man history  which  succeeds  that  of  fear  and  force  may  be 
called  that  of  cunning,  which  means  of  reason  without  love. 
The  beginning  of  this  period  coincides,  roughly  speaking, 
with  that  of  the  employment  by  art  of  hard  materials — stone, 
bronze,  etc.  And  it  is  easy  enough  to  see  why  this  should 
be  the  case.  Until  the  reign  of  force  and  fear  is  at  an  end, 
there  is  not  settled  life  enough  to  enable  men  to  manipulate 
hard  materials,  or  to  inspire  them  with  any  wish  to  construct 
things  that  shall  endure.  It  is  in  building  walled  towns  and 
fortresses  that  men  learn  to  hew  and  cut  stone,  and  so  pre- 
pare the  means  for  the  more  enduring  forms  of  sculpture. 


The  Evolution  of  Sculpture.  349 

The  earliest  stone  sculptures  of  Greece  are  contemporary 
with  the  earliest  stone  walls.  And  so  it  is  everywhere :  first 
use,  then  art. 

I  have  said  that  the  age  of  force  and  fear  is  succeeded  by 
the  age  of  cunning.  Our  American  use  of  that  word,  to  mean 
'  pretty,'  shows  how  we  feel  the  connection  between  cun- 
ning and  art.  And  cunning  workmanship  is  a  common  bib- 
lical phrase.  We  may  further  call  attention  to  the  word 
"  craft."  Cunning  applied  to  life  means  the  subordination 
of  the  members  of  society  to  a  head — the  ordering  and  gov- 
erning of  the  many  by  one.  In  a  word,  it  is  order  estab- 
lished from  one  point,  in  a  sense  from  without.  In  art  it 
means  that  order  and  harmony  which  we  call  beauty. 
Beauty  is  order,  and  order  is  the  outcome  of  cunning. 

The  process  by  which  men  passed  from  force  to  cunning 
is  a  slow  one,  and  involves  a  struggle  between  the  two  prin- 
ciples. So  in  art,  the  struggle  between  the  expression  of 
force  and  the  expression  of  order — between  the  monstrous 
and  the  beautiful — is  a  slow  one.  It  generally  appears  as  a 
struggle  of  gods  or  men  with  monsters — of  the  gods  against 
dragons  or  giants,  or  Titans ;  of  men  against  hydras  or  drag- 
ons, or  centaurs  or  minotaurs.  Of  course,  the  victory  is  al- 
ways with  the  higher  principle.  If  we  examine  the  early 
stone  sculptures  of  Babylonia,  or  Egypt,  or  Greece,  or  Scan- 
dinavia, we  shall  find  the  same  subjects  in  all — cunning  and 
order  struggling  with,  and  overcoming,  brute  force.  And  the 
same  thing  is  reflected  in  all  early  literature,  even  in  the 
Bible  itself.  Egypt,  and  Babylonia  with  its  successive  king- 
doms, are  the  lands  wherein  this  struggle  is  carried  on  for 
all  human  history.  In  neither  does  beauty  ever  completely 
conquer  force.  The  sphinxes  of  Egypt  and  the  winged, 
human-headed  horses  of  Assyria  are  compromises  between 
brute  force  and  beauty.  But,  even  where  the  human  form 
displaces  the  monster,  made  up  of  man  and  beast,  it  does  not 
attain  to  true  beauty ;  only  to  a  kind  of  mathematical  pro- 
portion, which  is  the  earliest  form  of  order.  The  figures  and 
groups  of  the  two  river  civilizations  are  all  mathematical. 
They  have  proportion  but  no  life.  They  are  purely  conven- 
tional. We  do  not  know,  I  believe,  the  name  of  a  single 
artist  belonging  to  these  two  countries,  and  this  for  the 
reason  that  there  is  no  life  or  originality  in  their  art.  It  is 
an  interesting  fact  that  in  those  countries  sculpture  never 
gets  disengaged  from  architecture,  but  always  follows  its 
law,  which  is  that  of  simple  proportion.  Egypt  and  Baby- 


350  The  Evolution  of  Sculpture. 

Ionia  show  no  free-standing  figures  in  art.  All  are  con- 
nected with  some  building,  or  attached  to  some  stone  to 
represent  a  building.  This  means  that  man  has  not  yet 
learned  to  stand  free  from  his  surroundings :  he  is  part  of 
his  house  and  follows  its  laws.  He  is  a  mere  attachment  to 
a  strong-walled  edifice  of  institutions.  It  is  by  no  mere 
accident  that  in  the  tenth  commandment  a  man's  house  is 
mentioned  before  his  wife. 

The  struggle  between  cunning  and  force,  so  long  main- 
tained in  Egypt  and  Babylonia,  is  taken  up  by  Greece  and 
by  her  decided  in  favor  of  the  former.  Greece  is  the  land 
of  the  sculpturesque.  Her  sculpture  stands  to-day  unri- 
valed, nay,  unapproached.  And  all  her  art,  even  her  music 
and  poetry,  was  sculpturesque. 

At  first  her  sculpture  differs  in  no  essential  particular 
from  that  of  Egypt  and  Assyria.  It  is  formal,  mathematical, 
lifeless,  and  attached  to  buildings  or  stones.  The  sitting 
figures  from  Miletus,  and  some  even  from  Greece  proper,  are 
in  no  way  different  from  those  of  Egypt.  Greece  too  has 
her  sphinxes,  centaurs,  and  other  monsters.  But,  as  Greece 
realizes  her  true  character,  all  this  gradually  disappears. 
Even  the  monsters  gradually  assume  a  certain  beauty.  Let 
any  one  compare  the  centaurs  of  the  temple  of  Assos  with 
those  of  the  temple  of  Zeus  at  Olympia,  and  with  those  on 
the  metopes  of  the  Parthenon.  Gradually,  too,  the  figures 
get  detached  from  buildings  and  stone  blocks;  gradually 
mathematical  proportion  gives  way  to  a  sense  of  life,  first  in 
the  limbs  and  then  in  the  face.  It  is  most  interesting  to 
watch  this  process  as  it  shows  itself  in  the  Cyprian  statues 
now  in  the  New  York  Metropolitan  Museum.  In  the  earli- 
est of  these  the  heads  are  mere  stone  bullets,  with  features, 
hair,  and  coiffure  rudely  indicated ;  the  bodies  are  simple 
blocks,  with  the  arms  parallel,  perpendicular,  and  cling- 
ing to  the  body,  and  the  legs  and  feet  unseparated ;  the 
clothing  is  indicated  by  ridges  or  grooves,  and  shows  no 
muscular  frame  beneath.  Gradually  the  faces  begin  to  as- 
sume the  half-idiotic  smile,  the  earliest  attempt  at  expres- 
sion ;  the  pendent  arms  are  partially  separated  from  the  sides 
by  the  cutting  out  of  oval  holes  between  the  elbows  and  the 
body,  leaving  a  ridiculously  attenuated  waist.  One  foot  be- 
gins to  advance  a  little ;  one  hand  begins  to  rise  and  hold 
something,  then  both  hands.  Then  the  folds  of  the  drapery 
begin  to  be  marked,  until  at  last  the  figures  begin  to  show 
signs  of  life.  But  in  Cyprus  sculpture  never  gets  beyond 


Tlie  Evolution  of  Sculpture.  351 

Oriental  stiffness ;  never  belies  its  medium.  Indeed,  even  in 
Greece  itself  it  has  not  done  so  in  the  earliest  art-products 
known  to  us — e.  g.,  the  Spartan  grave-reliefs,  the  Agemo  of 
Asea,  the  Apollo  of  Tenea,  and  even  the  so-called  Mara- 
thonian  soldier. 

But  a  time  finally  comes  when  Greece  breaks  through  the 
bonds  of  Orientalism,  when  she  rises  above  the  stiff,  mathe- 
matical order  to  the  order  of  life  and  its  beauty ;  when  the 
human  spirit  for  the  first  time  becomes  conscious  of  its 
freedom.  When  the  cunning  of  Themistocles  enables  a 
handful  of  freedom-loving  Greeks  to  baffle  and  rout  all  the 
brute  force  and  stiff  despotism  of  Persia,  the  cunning  of 
Phidias  overcomes  all  the  brute  forces  that  he  finds  in  stone 
and  bronze,  and  makes  them  vehicles  for  living  and  breath- 
ing thoughts  of  freedom.  The  one  is  the  counterpart  of 
the  other. 

When  we  speak  of  the  sculpture  of  Greece,  we  at  once 
think  of  the  Parthenon  marbles,  the  Hermes  of  Praxiteles, 
the  Venus  of  Melos,  etc.  But  these  mark  the  ripeness  and 
decay  of  Greek  sculpture,  not  its  evolution,  which  is  all  prior 
to  the  Parthenon  marbles.  Indeed,  we  can  trace  the  whole 
history  of  sculpture  in  Greece  itself — growth,  ripeness,  decay. 

In  the  tombs  of  Mycenae,  Tiryns,  Nauplia,  and  other 
places,  we  find  small  clay  images,  rude  as  can  be,  the  earliest 
attempts  to  body  forth  the  unseen.  They  are  doubtless 
images  of  gods  and  ancestors,  such  as  were  to  be  found  in 
every  family.  We  hear  of  them  among  the  Hebrews  as 
teraphim,  among  the  Etruscans  and  Romans  as  lares  and 
penates.  The  Greeks  had,  no  doubt,  similar  things  from 
very  early  times ;  but  it  is  curious  enough  that  in  Homer 
we  find  no  mention  of  idols  of  any  kind,  except  the  Palla- 
dium, which  seems  to  have  been  of  wood.  And  doubtless 
by  Homer's  time  the  clay  images  had  to  some  extent  been 
superseded  by  wooden  ones.  How  rude  some  of  these  were 
we  may  understand  when  we  hear  that  the  statue  of  Hera, 
at  Samos,  was  a  mere  board,  and  those  of  the  Dioscuri,  at 
Sparta,  little  better  than  rude  crosses.  Yet  such  things 
were  held  very  sacred,  and  were  worshiped  even  after  art 
had  advanced  to  a  far  higher  stage.  The  improvement  of 
these  rude  statues  is  connected  with  the  half-mythical 
name  of  Daedalus.  He  is  the  reputed  originator  of  those 
ccoana,  or  wooden  statues,  which  were  the  chief  objects  of 
worship  in  very  many  Greek  temples.  None  of  these  re- 
main to  us,  but  we  may  judge  of  their  character  by  certain 


352  The  Evolution  of  Sculpture. 

reliefs  found  at  Sparta,  which  were  plainly  copied  from 
wooden  originals.  That  the  xoana  were  rude,  stiff,  and 
expressionless  we  know.  Perhaps  they  were  enlivened  by 
being  painted.  At  all  events,  they  served  to  enable  the  con- 
sciousness of  the  invisible  to  fix  itself  to  form,  and  that  is 
the  purpose  of  all  art.  A  great  change  took  place  in 
Greek  art  somewhere  about  the  year  600  B.  c.  It  appears 
to  have  been  about  that  time  that  two  new  materials  and 
several  new  processes  came  into  use.  The  materials  were 
bronze  and  stone ;  the  processes  were  beating  and  casting 
for  the  former,  hewing  and  sawing  for  the  latter.  Of 
course  all  these  processes  had  been  known  elsewhere  long 
before  that ;  indeed,  they  had  been  known,  most  of  them,  in 
Greece  itself,  but  not  by  the  Greeks.  Eor  them  they  were 
lost  arts  recovered.  It  is  at  present  impossible  to  say 
whether  the  bronze  or  the  stone  statues  are  of  more  ancient 
date.  It  is  certain,  however,  that  bronze-beating  preceded 
bronze-casting.  The  oldest  bronze  statues  were  formed  of 
sheets  nailed  or  riveted  together,  and  some  of  the  earliest 
stone  statues  bear  evidences  of  having  been  copied  from 
originals  of  beaten  bronze.  A  great  technical  advance  was 
made  when  the  arts  of  casting  in  bronze  and  of  sawing 
marble  into  blocks  were  discovered.  From  that  time  on 
sculpture,  and  statuary  in  the  narrower  sense,  steadily  pro- 
gressed. Advancing  skill  goes  hand  in  hand  with  advanc- 
ing life  and  advancing  thought.  The  spirit  of  freedom  that 
now  stirs  in  Greece  shows  itself  at  once  in  all  the  arts.  The 
very  gods  renew  their  form  and  become  beautiful  as  well 
as  strong.  It  was  a  saying  of  Plato's  that  the  state  is  but 
the  individual  man  writ  large.  We  may  reverse  this  and 
say  that  in  these  times  the  individual  statue,  with  its  bal- 
ance and  proportion  of  life,  is  simply  the  ordered  state  of 
freedom  writ  small.  Just  in  proportion  as  Greece  advances 
in  true  freedom,  her  sculpture  gains  life  and  beauty ;  yea, 
and  when  freedom  dies,  sculpture  dies;  all  the  arts  die. 
True  art  is  always  the  expression  of  freedom,  because  it  is 
the  expression  of  man's  spiritual  nature,  and  that  is  free- 
dom. 

Enough  still  remains  to  us  of  Greek  art  to  show  by  what 
steps  it  passed  from  the  rude  stone  block  to  the  finished 
art  of  Phidias.  These  steps  are  better  presented  to  the  eye 
than  to  the  ear. 

There  is,  however,  one  important  series  of  steps  that  can 
not  be  presented  for  want  of  material.  It  is  characteristic 


The  Evolution  of  Sculpture.  353 

of  all  rational  advance  that,  when  the  new  is  found,  the  old 
is  not  thrown  contemptuously  away,  but  glorified  in  the 
light  of  the  new.  So  the  Greeks,  when  they  learned  to  make 
statues  of  bronze  and  marble,  did  not  cast  aside  their  old 
wooden  xoana,  to  which  so  much  religious  feeling  clung. 
On  the  contrary,  they  worked  up  the  xoana  into  something 
of  surpassing  beauty.  The  truth  is,  the  two  most  famous 
statues  of  all  the  ancient  world,  the  colossal  Athena  and 
Zeus  of  Phidias,  were  merely  improved  xoana — improved 
with  ivory  and  gold.  And  it  is  a  matter  of  the  deepest 
interest  that  in  these  two  statues  Greece  embodied  her  two 
ideals,  power  and  wisdom.  Power  is  the  father  of  wisdom. 
The  whole  of  Greece  is  in  these  two  statues — her  strength 
as  well  as  her  weakness.  She  has  power  and  wisdom,  but 
she  has  no  love.  Ere  that  come,  the  world  will  have  to  be 
turned  upside  down,  and  Greece  will  have  to  perish.  The 
age  of  Phidias  marks  the  culmination  of  Greek  sculpture, 
which  in  him  expresses  all  that  Greece  is  and  loves — power 
and  wisdom.  The  next  age,  that  of  Scopas  and  Praxiteles, 
exquisite  as  its  works  are,  already  shows  signs  of  decay,  or, 
at  any  rate,  of  over-ripeness.  What  is  even  more  interest- 
ing is,  love  now  comes  in  as  a  subject  of  representation. 
This  is  not  only  the  age  of  the  great  Aphrodites  and  Diony- 
suses ;  it  is  also  the  age  of  the  Jsiobe  Group,  with  its  won- 
derful conflict  between  power  and  love,  and  of  the  Hermes 
of  Praxiteles,  with  its  pathetic  human  tenderness.  With 
love  the  pathetic  enters  into  art.  But  Greek  sculpture 
never  could  embody  love  for  want  of  a  type.  No  such  type 
was  given  to  it.  The  Greek  can  never  separate  the  divine 
love  from  the  animal,  and  animal  love  can  never  be  a  sub- 
ject for  art.  Scopas  and  Praxiteles  do  all  that  Greeks  could 
do  to  embody  love.  Their  efforts  are  worthy  of  all  respect 
and  admiration;  but  they  never  reach  the  true  ideal.  And 
it  was  just  for  want  of  that  ideal  that  Greece  fell  into  decay. 
The  truth  was  that,  when  love  did  come,  it  set  to  work  to 
break  down  all  natural  limitations,  and  that  too  from  its 
very  nature. 

The  sculpture  of  Greece  after  Phidias  and  Praxiteles  is 
just  what  one  might  expect  from  a  nation  that  had  finished 
its  task,  worked  out  into  clear  visibility  its  own  inner 
nature.  Originality  is  henceforth  impossible  for  it,  and  so 
it  goes  on  repeating  old  ideas  in  new  and  striking  forms, 
making  up  by  technique  what  it  lacks  in  content.  Just  as 
previous  to  Phidias  the  content  had  been  too  much  for  the 


354  The  Evolution  of  Sculpture. 

form,  so  after  Praxiteles  the  form  is  too  much  for  the  con- 
tent. This  is  always  the  sure  sign  of  decay  in  art. 

In  Phidias  and  Praxiteles  art  reaches  its  zenith.  The 
monstrous  is  completely  banished  from  it,  except  as  something 
overcome.  Beauty — calm,  dignified,  self -poised — reaches  its 
highest  expression,  and  reaches  it  by  a  simple  idealizing 
of  the  natural.  In  the  works  of  this  time  there  is  no  effort 
to  arouse  a  numbed  aesthetic  sensibility  by  a  false  effective- 
ness, or  by  appealing  to  tastes  lower  than  the  aesthetic. 
But  after  Praxiteles  all  these  tendencies  show  themselves 
more  and  more.  Now  is  the  time  when  Colossi  and  other 
monstrous  works  begin  to  appear,  catching  a  vulgar  atten- 
tion by  their  mere  size.  Now  appear  the  statues  familiar  to 
us  in  all  Italian  museums,  with  limbs  unnaturally  long 
and  heads  unnaturally  small.  Now  appear  those  Herculeses 
that  are  mere  masses  of  bones  and  muscles,  and  those 
Venuses  that  are  mere  flesh.  The  downward  process  begins 
under  the  Macedonian  Empire,  but,  checked  in  part  by  the 
full  taste  of  the  Greeks,  becomes  accelerated  under  the 
Komans,  who  appear  to  have  had  no  taste  for  anything  but 
the  colossal  and  the  meretricious.  Ere  the  Christian  era 
arrives,  art  is  dead,  its  form  being  thenceforth  only  gal- 
vanized to  fabricate  portraits  of  emperors  and  their  minions, 
or  of  fashionable  ladies  on  exhibition. 

Such  is  a  very  brief  and  imperfect  sketch  of  the  history 
of  Greek  sculpture,  which  may,  for  several  reasons,  be  taken 
to  represent  the  history  of  sculpture  generally.  Let  us 
enumerate  its  steps  once  more.  They  may  be  divided  into 
two  groups  :  (1)  Steps  of  growth.  (2)  Steps  of  decay.  The 
former  may  be  counted  along  the  line  of  technical  process, 
or  on  that  of  ideas  expressed.  We  have  perhaps  said  enough 
about  the  former.  Looking  at  the  latter,  we  find  (1)  an 
effort  to  express  an  idea  in  mere  static  form,  first  by  copy- 
ing nature,  and  afterward  by  introducing  monstrosities. 
The  latter  is  intended  to  express  force.  It  is  only  by  a  very 
slow  and  laborious  process  that  art  learns  to  express  its  ideas 
without  resorting  to  the  monstrous.  When  this  is  com- 
pleted, art  (2)  tries  to  express  human  action — that  is,  rational 
action,  action  ordered  for  a  purpose.  It  is  here  that  beauty 
makes  its  appearance,  for  beauty  is  but  the  expression  of 
ratio  or  reason.  Having  accomplished  this  as  it  did  in  the 
marbles  of  the  Parthenon,  it  attemps  a  bolder  task,  trying 
to  express  emotion — at  first  emotion  as  a  condition,  and 
afterward  as  a  cause  of  action.  So  long  as  this  is  kept 


Tlie  Evolution  of  Sculpture.  355 

within  limits,  it  is  attended  with  admirable  results ;  but  no 
sooner  does  the  emotion  become  boisterous  than  it  goes  be- 
yond the  limits  of  sculpture.  The  Hermes  of  Praxiteles 
and  the  Niobe  Group  are  still  works  of  art ;  so  is  the  Apollo 
of  the  Belvedere  and  the  group  it  belongs  to ;  but  we  begin 
to  feel  a  revulsion  when  we  come  to  the  Laocoon,  and  turn 
altogether  away  from  the  Farnese  Bull.  In  these  and  other 
works  of  the  same  ages  we  see  the  steps  of  decay — (1)  the 
effective,  (2)  the  harrowing,  (3)  the  gigantic,  (4)  the  mere- 
tricious, (5)  the  meaningless,  or  merely  pretty  or  curious, 
(6)  the  fashionable,  (7)  the  revolting,  as  so  much  of  the 
Pompeian  sculpture  is. 

Ancient  civilization  perished  for  lack  of  love.  Ancient 
sculpture  perished  because  it  had  accomplished  its  task  and 
could  go  no  further.  As  ancient  civilization  died  out,  Chris- 
tianity, the  religion  of  love,  gradually  took  its  place,  and  pre- 
pared the  way  for  a  new  and  higher  civilization.  It  might, 
accordingly,  have  been  expected  that  as  the  new  civilization 
arose,  sculpture  would  arise  with  it.  But  this  was  by  no 
means  the  case.  The  Christianity  of  the  first  fifteen  hun- 
dred years  shows  no  sculpture  worthy  of  the  name,  and,  in- 
deed, in  this  art  Christian  civilization  has  nothing  to  set 
alongside  Greek  sculpture.  And  the  reason  of  this  is  by 
no  means  difficult  to  understand.  Christianity  contains  an 
element — indeed,  its  essential  and  characteristic  element — 
which  refuses  to  be  represented  in  sculpture  at  all.  The 
just  and  rational  naturally  appear  in  sculpture  as  the  beau- 
tiful, and  this  we  have  in  its  utmost  perfection  in  Greek  art; 
but  love  or  the  holy  can  not  be  made  to  appear  in  sculpture. 
The  author  of  the  Hebrew  decalogue  felt  all  the  difference 
between  the  just  and  the  holy,  the  beautiful  and  the  adora- 
ble, when  he  forbade  his  people  to  make  graven  images ;  and 
the  same  is  true  of  Zoroaster.  The  Greek  and  Protestant 
churches  felt  the  same  thing  when  they  banished  idols  from 
their  places  of  worship.  And  even  the  Roman  Church,  which 
retains  them,  shows  that  it  feels  their  inadequacy  by  painting 
them  and  hiding  the  body  with  clothes. 

Architecture,  dancing,  and  sculpture  are  the  arts  of  the 
just,  beautiful,  and  graceful,  and  in  these  the  Greeks  stand 
to-day  unsurpassed  and  unsurpassable.  The  arts  of  love  and 
holiness  are  painting,  poetry,  and  music,  and  in  these  we 
moderns  as  far  excel  the  ancients  as  they  excel  us  in  the 
other  arts.  Eaphael,  Dante,  Beethoven  have  no  rivals  among 
the  ancients,  just  as  Iktinus,  Theodorus,  and  Praxiteles  have 


356  The  Evolution  of  Sculpture. 

no  rivals  among  the  moderns.  Modern  art — which,  when  it 
knows  itself,  is  the  art  of  the  holy — rises  higher  in  propor- 
tion as  it  uses  less  material. 

We  can  never  dispense  with  architecture ;  but  it  may  well 
be  doubted  whether  we  can  ever  carry  it  as  an  art  beyond 
the  perfection  reached  by  the  Greeks.  Dancing  we  can  well 
afford  to  dispense  with,  both  as  art  and  as  amusement ;  it  is 
the  childish  art.  And  even  in  sculpture  we  never  can  excel. 
We  may  use  it  for  portraits,  for  pretty  conceits,  and  for  deco- 
rative purposes ;  but  it  can  never  be  the  expression  of  what 
is  deepest  in  our  life,  never  an  art  for  us. 

In  the  Belvedere  of  the  Vatican,  along  with  such  works 
as  the  Laocoon,  the  Apollo,  and  the  so-called  Antinous,  are 
two  statues  by  one  of  the  greatest  of  modern  sculptors,  Ca- 
nova — two  boxers.  He  was  a  cruel  foe  to  Canova  who  put 
them  there.  When  one  suddenly  comes  upon  them  they 
cause  a  revulsion  so  great  that  one  feels  as  if  the  place  had 
been  desecrated.  This  tells  the  whole  s^ory.  And  I  do  not 
believe  that  the  case  can  ever  be  otherwise.  We  may  equal 
the  Greeks  in  technique,  we  may  make  beautiful  things  by 
slavishly  imitating  them,  as  Thorwaldsen  and  Jerichau  did ; 
but  beyond  that  we  can  never  go.  The  age  of  sculpture  is 
past,  just  as  the  age  of  pyramids  is.  Reason  as  well  as 
strength  must  give  place  to  love.  Sculpture  remains  with 
reason  and  justice  upon  the  earth ;  love  carries  us  to  heaven, 
and  requires  an  art  that  can  go  thither  with  us. 

Can  any  one  imagine  a  piece  of  sculpture  creating  the 
same  profound  interest  as  the  tiny  Angelus?  No ;  and  why? 
Because  the  Angelus  expresses  the  holy,  that  response  of  the 
soul  to  God — an  element  which  no  sculptor,  be  he  ever  so 
deft,  can  embody  in  his  art — an  element  which  interests  us 
more  than  any  other,  which,  above  all  others,  it  is  important 
that  we  should  unfold  in  ourselves. 


The  Evolution  of  Sculpture.  357 


ABSTRACT    OF   THE    DISCUSSION. 

MB.  LYSANDER  DICKERMAN: 

I  think  the  audience  must  have  been  greatly  impressed,  as  I  have 
been,  with  the  force,  beauty,  and  philosophic  thought  manifested  in 
the  lecture  of  Prof.  Davidson.  I  can  speak  only  in  commendation  of 
his  carefully  considered  and  matured  conclusions.  Since  he  has 
drawn  his  illustrations  and  traced  the  line  of  evolution  mainly  from 
the  art  of  Greece,  it  may  be  of  interest  to  note  its  characteristics  in  an 
older  country — in  Egypt.  Had  I  selected  my  own  views,  however,  I 
should  have  made  a  somewhat  different  choice.  I  must  use  the  mate- 
rial at  hand  as  best  I  may.  [A  series  of  about  twenty-five  views  of 
Egyptian  sculpture  was  placed  upon  the  screen,  and  explained  by  Mr. 
Dickerman.  They  comprised  three  views  of  the  Sphinx,  several  portrait 
statues,  and  figures  of  the  gods  and  goddesses.]  In  regard  to  the  por- 
trait statues  Mr.  Dickerman  said:  The  object  of  the  Egyptians  in 
making  these  statues,  which  are  usually  found  at  or  near  their  burial 
places,  was  to  prepare  an  abode  for  the  Ka,  which  was  the  fourth  prin- 
ciple composing  the  personality  of  the  human  being,  the  other  three 
being  the  body,  soul,  and  mind.  The  Ka  was  something  like  our  con- 
ception of  a  ghost ;  it  may  have  been  what  Paul  meant  by  the  "  spirit- 
ual body."  When  the  person  died  it  must  have  an  abiding  place  pre- 
pared for  it  until  it  should  again  be  united  with  the  soul  and  body  at 
the  resurrection  ;  it  must  not  be  left  to  wander  about  at  a  distance 
from  the  body.  Hence  it  was  the  aim  of  the  Egyptian  sculptor  to 
make  a  correct  likeness  of  the  deceased  ;  and  it  is  noteworthy  that  in  the 
oldest  of  these  statues  the  expression  is  dignified  and  life-like.  I  think 
we  do  not  find  anywhere  in  Egyptian  sculpture  the  conventional  silly 
and  inane  expression  to  which  Prof.  Davidson  has  called  your  attention 
in  these  early  sculptures  of  Greece  and  Assyria.  This  wooden  statue 
is  6,000  years  old— three  thousand  years  older  than  the  earlier  products 
of  Greek  art ;  yet  you  observe  that  the  arms  are  separated  from  the 
sides,  without  destroying  the  symmetry  of  the  body ;  one  foot  is  ad- 
vanced, and  the  whole  attitude  is  natural  and  life-like. 

There  is  a  difference  between  the  Greek  sphinx  and  the  Egyptian 
sphinx.  The  former  may  have  symbolized  brute  force,  as  Prof.  David- 
son has  assumed.  The  latter  was  simply  the  symbolical  representation 
of  the  god  Horus— Har-em-akhu — the  rising  sun.  It  is  not  true,  I  be- 
lieve, of  any  period  of  Egyptian  history,  that  that  people  worshiped 


358  The  Evolution  of  Sculpture. 

animal  forms  or  idols  in  the  ordinary  sense.  Animals  and  images 
•were  to  them  symbols  of  certain  divine  powers  or  characteristics,  and 
no  more  idols  than  are  the  lamb  and  dove  in  Christian  symbolism. 
This  form  of  idealism,  or  religious  symbolism,  was  largely  the  inspira- 
tion of  Egyptian  art. 

DR.  LEWIS  G.  JANES  : 

It  is  an  interesting  fact  that  some  of  the  very  oldest  products  of  the 
sculptor's  art,  if  we  may  trust  the  archaeologist,  have  been  discovered 
in  this  country.  Many  of  you  have  perhaps  seen  the  little  image,  now 
in  possession  of  Prof.  G.  F.  Wright,  of  Oberlin  College,  which  was  dug 
up  in  one  of  the  Western  Territories  during  the  boring  of  an  artesian 
well,  from  a  point  400  feet  below  the  surface  of  the  earth.  Prof. 
Wright  and  other  archaeologists  regard  this  as  the  very  oldest  extant 
product  of  the  sculptor's  art.  Rudely  sculptured  heads  of  anthropoid 
apes,  regarded  as  very  ancient,  have  recently  been  found  in  the  valley  of 
the  Columbia  River,  Oregon — a  region  in  which  no  such  animals  have 
lived  in  recent  times.  You  are  familiar,  also,  with  the  rude  carvings 
of  animals  on  bones,  found  in  the  caves  of  Europe. 

The  noteworthy  superiority  of  the  early  art  of  Egypt  over  that  of 
Greece,  of  a  much  later  period,  and  the  unquestioned  fact  that  Egyp- 
tian art  crystallized  into  conventional  forms  under  the  influence  of  the 
prevailing  religion  and  civilization,  while  Greek  art,  under  conditions 
more  favorable  to  free  development,  rapidly  evolved  to  the  highest  per- 
fection, is  destructive  of  a  false  conception  of  evolution  which  sometimes 
prevails,  implying  a  world-wide  seriality  of  development,  and  constant- 
ly progressive  attainment.  The  evolution  of  an  art  merely  implies  its 
natural  genesis,  development,  maturity,  and  decay,  as  influenced  by  its 
local  and  temporal  environment,  the  prime  factor  in  which,  of  course, 
is  mental  and  spiritual.  The  relative  perfection  of  extant  early  Egyp- 
tian sculptures  may  be  accounted  for,  perhaps,  as  suggested  in- 
directly by  Prof.  Davidson,  by  the  fact  that  more  primitive  products 
were  of  wood  and  have  been  destroyed.  I  think  he  is  mistaken  in  sup- 
posing that  the  name  of  no  Egyptian  artist  has  been  preserved.  If  I 
remember  rightly,  we  have  the  name  and  pedigree  of  at  least  one  archi- 
tect of  note,  given  at  length  in  the  inscriptions. 

If  I  were  to  criticise  the  admirable  essay  of  Prof.  Davidson  at  any 
point,  it  would  be  in  questioning  his  right  to  draw  a  rigid  line  of 
demarkation  between  an  imitative  copying  of  nature  and  a  conscious 
striving  to  realize  spiritual  ideals  in  art.  In  the  earlier  stages  of  art 
these  two  impulses  seem  to  me  to  be  everywhere  interblended.  Proba- 
bly the  imitative  impulse  at  first  predominates ;  nevertheless,  we  have 
in  its  outcome,  I  think,  the  substantial  beginnings  of  art.  The  gods 


The  Evolution  of  Sculpture.  359 

themselves  are  pictured  most  frequently  in  human  form,  and  clothed 
with  human  attributes.  The  early  artist  creates  both  his  gods  and 
their  artistic  symbols  in  his  own  image.  He  can  do  no  otherwise. 
Even  the  composite  symbolism  of  later  times  is  made  up  of  distinct 
natural  elements,  each  copied  from  some  real  object.  But  if  all  art  is 
in  part  imitative,  so  all — even  the  rudest — is  in  part,  in  very  large  part, 
symbolic  and  idealistic.  The  child  who  draws  his  first  picture  of  a 
man — a  rude  three-cornered  head,  with  two  dots  for  eyes,  single  lines 
for  mouth  and  nose,  two  horizontal  strokes  for  arms,  and  two  perpen- 
dicular ones  for  legs— exhibits  the  germs  of  a  genuine  artistic  impulse. 
He  has  symbolized  what  are  to  him  the  living,  active,  expressive  features 
of  his  subject— the  thinking,  speaking  head,  the  moving  limbs.  These 
are  to  him  the  whole  man.  The  body,  the  trunk,  is  quiescent ;  it  is 
the  seat  of  functions  mainly  automatic,  and  concealed  from  view — so 
he  leaves  this  out  of  his  picture. 


THE 
EVOLUTION    OF   PAINTING 


BY 

FORREST  P.  RUNDELL 


COLLATERAL  READINGS  SUGGESTED: 

Liibke's  History  of  Art ;  Drs.  Woltmann  and  Woermann's  History 
of  Painting;  Twining's  Philosophy  of  Painting;  Blanc's  History  of 
the  Painters  of  all  Nations ;  Buchanan's  Memoirs  of  Painting ;  Heat- 
on's  Concise  History  of  Painting;  Jervis's  Painting  and  Celebrated 
Painters,  Ancient  and  Modern;  Radcliffe's  Schools  and  Masters  of 
Painting;  Hamerton's  Thoughts  about  Art,  and  A  Painter's  Camp; 
Eastlake's  History  of  Oil  Painting,  and  Ruskin's  Review  of  the  same 
in  the  London  Quarterly  Review.  Articles  Fine  Art,  Painting,  Schools 
of  Painting,  and  Archceology,  in  Encyclopaedia  Britannica;  Article 
Painting  in  American  Cyclopaedia;  Barry's  Lectures  on  Painting; 
Fuseli's  Lectures  on  Painting ;  Kugler's  Handbooks  of  Painting ;  C.  E. 
Clement's  History  of  Painting,  and  Handbook  of  Legendary  and 
Mythological  Art. 


THE  EVOLUTION  OF  PAINTING. 

By  FORREST  P.  RUNDELL. 

PAIXTING  has  been  defined  as  "  the  art  of  representing  on 
a  flat  surface,  by  means  of  lines  and  color,  objects  as  they 
appear  in  nature — that  is  to  say,  in  such  a  manner  that  the 
picture  produced  shall  within  certain  limits  affect  the  eye 
in  the  same  way  as  do  the  objects  themselves."  During  its 
early  history,  painting  was  everywhere  wholly  decorative  in 
character.  In  some  countries  it  has  not  yet  advanced  be- 
yond the  decorative  stage.  This  is  especially  the  case  in 
China,  and  to  a  certain  extent  also  in  Japan.  In  most 
countries  painting  was  at  first  closely  allied  with  sculpture 
and  architecture.  In  Egypt,  Assyria,  and  Greece  both 
painting  and  sculpture  were  subsidiary  to  architecture,  be- 
ing chiefly  used  to  ornament  tombs,  palaces,  and  temples. 
The  bas-reliefs  and  earlier  statues  were  painted.  The  prac- 
tice of  coloring  statues  continued  in  Greece  until  after 
sculpture  became  differentiated  from  architecture. 

The  subjects  of  the  early  paintings  were  of  a  simple  char- 
acter. They  consisted  chiefly  of  figures  with  few  or  no  ac- 
cessories. When  trees  were  first  introduced  they  were 
treated  in  the  most  conventional  manner.  Each  tree  was  of 
the  same  size  and  had  the  same  number  of  leaves  as  all  the 
other  trees  in  the  picture,  and  all  were  represented  as  in  the 
same  plane. 

With  a  knowledge  of  perspective  came  the  introduction 
of  backgrounds ;  and  when  skill  had  been  acquired  in  treat- 
ing the  backgrounds,  they  were  gradually  separated  from 
the  figures,  and  in  course  of  time  were  themselves  used  as 
subjects  for  pictures. 

At  a  later  period  artists  devoted  their  attention  to  spe- 
cial features  of  landscapes.  Some  painted  only  marine 
pictures,  others  mountains,  others  flowers  or  fruits.  Spen- 
cer's definition  of  progress  was  never  better  illustrated  than 
in  the  history  of  painting.  There  has  been  a  constant  dif- 
ferentiation of  forms,  a  constant  change  from  the  homoge- 
neous to  the  heterogeneous. 

If  time  permitted,  we  should  find  it  profitable  to  trace  the 


364  The  Evolution  of  Painting. 

history  of  painting  back  to  remote  ages,  and  to  discuss  its 
progress  among  semi-barbarous  peoples. 

An  exploration  of  caves  in  western  Europe  has  brought 
to  light  many  interesting  remains  of  early  art.  These  re- 
mains belong  to  the  Pleistocene  period,  and  prove  beyond 
question  that  the  so-called  cave-men  had  great  natural  apti- 
tude for  art.  In  speaking  of  the  cave-men,  John  Fiske 
says  :  "  Many  details  of  their  life  are  preserved  to  us  through 
their  extraordinary  taste  for  engraving  and  carving.  Sketches 
of  reindeer,  mammoths,  horses,  cave-bears,  pike,  and  seals, 
and  hunting  scenes,  have  been  found  by  the  hundred,  in- 
cised upon  antlers  or  bones,  or  sometimes  upon  stone ;  and 
the  artistic  skill  which  they  show  is  really  astonishing. 
Their  drawings  are  remarkable  not  only  for  their  accuracy, 
but  often  equally  so  for  the  taste  and  vigor  with  which  the 
subject  is  treated." 

Sir  John  Lubbock,  in  describing  these  remarkable  draw- 
ings, states  that  "  in  some  cases  there  is  even  an  attempt  at 
shading." 

Coming  down  to  historic  times,  the  earliest  art  is  to  be 
found  in  Egypt.  Pliny  tells  us  that  the  Egyptians  boasted 
of  having  been  masters  of  painting  more  than  six  thousand 
years  before  it  was  acquired  by  the  Greeks.  We  would 
doubtless  agree  with  Pliny  that  this  was  a  "  vain  boast,"  be- 
cause while  many  of  their  paintings  date  back  several 
thousand  years,  they  were  never  masters  of  the  art. 

The  remains  of  Egyptian  paintings  are  found  mostly  on 
walls  of  tombs  and  temples,  on  cases  and  cloths  of  mummies, 
and  on  papyrus  rolls.  Their  pictures  are  not  works  of  art 
in  the  ordinary  sense;  they  are  merely  symbolic  writings 
which  record  the  social,  religious,  and  political  life  of  the 
people.  The  pictures  consist  merely  of  outline  diagrams 
arbitrarily  colored 

The  Egyptians  knew  nothing  of  perspective,  or  the  sci- 
ence of  composition,  and  very  little  about  the  use  of  colors. 
They  were  conventional  in  their  treatment  of  the  human 
face.  Woltmann,  in  his  History  of  Painting,  says :  "  One 
face  wears  almost  always  the  same  fixed  expression  as  an- 
other. A  king,  whether  we  see  him  engaged  in  prayer,  or 
sacrifice,  or  confronting  the  enemy  in  the  onset  of  battle,  or 
marching  in  triumph  after  his  victory,  or  sitting  upon  the 
seat  of  judgment  in  the  character  of  an  avenging  deity,  inva- 
riably bears  upon  his  countenance  the  character  of  inexpress- 
ive and  conventional  rigidity,  beneath  which  our  modern 


The  Evolution  of  Painting.  365 

eyes  seem  to  detect  something  of  a  sensual  and  self-compla- 
cent smile." 

The  Egyptians  made  little  or  no  progress  in  either  sculpt- 
ure or  painting  during  a  period  comprising  thousands  of 
years.  Artists  were  regulated  in  their  work  by  rigid  rules 
prescribed  by  the  priesthood,  and  all  innovations  were  ex- 
pressly prohibited.  Plato  says  in  his  Laws :  "  The  art  we 
have  proposed  for  the  education  of  youth  was  known  long 
ago  to  the  Egyptians.  This  people  having  fixed  by  stat- 
ute what  forms  and  what  music  should  be  licensed,  they  had 
them  represented  in  their  temples.  Nor  was  it  lawful  for 
painters  or  other  inventive  artists  to  make  the  least  devia- 
tion from  the  authorized  standard.  Upon  careful  examina- 
tion, indeed,  it  will  be  found  that  the  pictures  and  the  stat- 
ues made  by  this  people  ten  thousand  years  ago  are  neither 
an  advance  upon  nor  inferior  to  those  they  now  execute." 

The  Greeks  borrowed  their  art  from  Egypt ;  but  in  bor- 
rowing the  art,  they  left  behind  the  religion.  The  Egyp- 
tian seed  was  planted  in  a  fertile  soil,  and  in  a  congenial 
climate  like  that  of  Greece  it  soon  produced  a  flower  of 
great  beauty.  Unfortunately,  no  remains  of  masterpieces 
among  Greek  paintings  have  been  preserved.  In  judging 
of  the  merits  of  these  works  we  are  obliged  to  rely  largely 
on  the  descriptions  of  contemporary  historians.  The  re- 
mains found  at  Pompeii  and  in  the  Catacombs  belong  to 
a  period  of  decline,  and,  although  some  of  these  are  copies 
of  earlier  Greek  paintings  of  note,  they  are  mostly  the  works 
of  inferior  artists. 

As  might  have  been  expected,  the  Greeks  were  several 
centuries  in  acquiring  their  knowledge  of  painting.  They 
were  pioneers,  and  their  advance  was  slow.  The  gradual 
growth  of  their  knowledge  has  been  summed  up  in  an  ad- 
mirable manner  by  Barry.  In  one  of  his  lectures  he  says : 
"  Here  we  find  them  beginning  with  an  outline.  They 
write  down  the  names  of  their  objects  for  fear  of  mistake. 
A  Corinthian  and  his  followers  first  attempt  to  fill  up  this 
outline  with  one  color.  An  Athenian  makes  his  men  dif- 
ferent one  from  another.  A  Cleonian  acquires  the  ability 
to  draw  his  figures  in  different  postures,  distinguishing  the 
joints  and  parts  of  the  body,  and  making  folds  in  the 
drapery.  Others  come  to  have  an  idea  of  light  and  shadow ; 
they  no  longer  use  simple  colors,  but  mix  and  compound 
them  one  with  another.  Apollodorus  is  distinguished  for 
a  judicious  choice  of  nature;  Zeuxis,  for  good  coloring. 


366  The  Evolution  of  Painting. 

Parrhasius  is  first  remarkable  for  symmetry  and  expression. 
Pamphilus  joins  the  study  of  mathematics  to  art.  Pausias 
excels  at  foreshortening  his  figures.  Euphranor  introduces 
majesty,  and  Apelles  grace."  It  will  thus  be  seen  that  their 
final  success  was  the  work  of  progressive  and  accumulated 
experience. 

There  has  been  much  controversy  regarding  the  relative 
merits  of  Greek  paintings  when  compared  with  the  works 
of  modern  masters.  Greek  writers  bestow  the  same  high 
praise  upon  the  work  of  their  painters  that  they  do  upon 
that  of  their  sculptors.  Nevertheless,  it  is  generally  agreed 
by  modern  writers  that  Greek  painting  did  not  reach  the 
degree  of  excellence  attained  by  sculpture. 

An  interesting  story  has  come  down  to  us  regarding  a 
trial  of  skill  between  Zeuxis  and  Parrhasius.  Zeuxis  painted 
some  grapes  which  were  so  natural  in  appearance  that  birds 
came  to  eat  them.  Parrhasius  then  painted  a  curtain  and 
was  so  accurate  in  his  execution  that  even  Zeuxis  was  de- 
ceived. When  Zeuxis  was  invited  to  the  room  to  view  the 
picture,  he  asked  that  the  curtain  be  drawn  aside  so  that 
the  picture  could  be  seen.  The  contest  was  decided  in 
favor  of  Parrhasius,  because  he  had  deceived  Zeuxis,  while 
Zeuxis  had  only  deceived  the  birds. 

The  complicated  problems  of  scientific  perspective  were 
unknown  to  the  Greeks,  and  there  were  perhaps  some  weak- 
nesses of  coloring.  Woltmann  tells  us  that  "  in  the  pictures 
having  definite  backgrounds  and  a  complete  pictorial  pur- 
pose, the  evident  blunders  in  perspective,  the  false  fore- 
shortenings,  rudely  managed  distances,  and  inefficient  con- 
duct of  light  and  shade,  are  very  disturbing."  As  the  Greeks 
were  not  very  ambitious  in  the  matter  of  landscapes,  many 
of  these  defects  were  not  often  apparent.  And  Woltmann 
gives  the  opinion  that  if  we  could  "  look  upon  some  great 
series  of  masterpieces  by  a  Greek  artist  we  should  not  be 
struck  by  any  technical  shortcomings  in  his  work,  but  should 
place  it  by  the  side  of  the  most  finished  performances  of  all 
times  or  races." 

After  the  third  century  B.  c.,  Greek  art  began  to  decline. 
The  general  debasement  of  morals  and  the  political  revolu- 
tions and  changes  of  dynasties  which  convulsed  Greece 
accelerated  the  decline;  and  finally,  at  the  time  of  the 
Roman  Conquest  in  146  B.  c.,  the  spoliation  of  the  art 
galleries,  public  buildings,  and  temples  tended  to  crush  the 
art  of  painting  everywhere. 


The  Evolution  of  Painting.  367 

After  the  conquest  of  Greece,  statues  and  paintings  were 
carried  to  Eome  by  tens  of  thousands.  As  a  result  of 
plundering  the  entire  East,  Home  became  the  center  of  art. 
The  Eoman  art  was  all  stolen,  however.  Even  the  painters 
themselves  were  Greeks.  Not  a  single  name  of  a  Eoman 
painter  of  eminence  has  come  down  to  us. 

When  the  Emperor  Constantine  made  Byzantium  the  capi- 
tal of  the  empire,  Eome  itself  was  plundered  to  supply  the 
new  capital.  Soon  after  this  the  barbarian  invasions  com- 
menced. In  the  year  410  Eome  was  sacked  by  the  Goths 
under  Alaric.  In  455  Eome  was  again  plundered,  this  time 
by  the  Vandals,  and  the  destruction  of  art  in  the  West  was 
then  complete. 

From  this  time  until  the  thirteenth  century  the  principal 
seat  of  art  was  at  Constantinople.  The  painters  were  mostly 
monks  or  persons  connected  with  monasteries,  and  painting 
was  practiced  almost  wholly  for  religious  purposes.  What 
is  known  as  the  Byzantine  style  was  developed,  which  be- 
came almost  as  fixed  and  conventional  as  the  style  employed 
in  ancient  Egypt.  "  The  characteristics  of  the  Byzantine 
school  are  length  and  meagerness  of  limbs,  stiffness  of 
figure,  features  almost  devoid  of  expression,  long,  narrow 
eyes,  a  disagreeable  blackish-green  coloring  of  the  flesh, 
various  conventional  attitudes  and  accessories  having  no 
foundation  in  nature,  and  a  profusion  of  gilding." 

The  capture  of  Constantinople  by  the  Crusaders  in  1204 
opened  channels  of  intercourse  with  western  Europe. 
Many  Byzantine  artists  settled,  in  Italy  and  Germany,  and 
schools  of  painting  were  established  in  the  flourishing 
cities  in  these  countries. 

At  first  the  Byzantine  style  was  servilely  followed.  But 
finally  the  study  of  ancient  Greek  art  was  taken  up,  and 
this,  in  connection  with  the  direct  study  of  nature,  led  a  few 
men  of  genius  to  reject  the  prevailing  style.  New  methods 
were  gradually  adopted  until  the  foundations  of  modern 
painting  were  laid. 

Cimabue,  who  lived  in  the  latter  part  of  the  thirteenth 
century,  was  one  of  the  first  Italian  painters  to  break  away 
from  the  Byzantine  style,  and  many  writers  speak  of  him  as 
the  father  of  modern  painting.  Others  accord  this  honor  to 
Giotto,  a  pupil  of  Cimabue.  Giotto  was  a  thorough  student 
of  nature,  and  he  greatly  improved  upon  the  work  of  his 
master.  From  this  time  the  development  of  painting  was 
rapid,  and  the  great  schools  of  Italy  were  soon  established. 


368  The  Evolution  of  Painting. 

In  the  fifteenth  and  sixteenth  centuries  we  meet  with 
Leonardo  da  Vinci,  Michel  Angelo,  Eaphael,  Titian,  and 
other  great  masters. 

In  summing  up  the  work  of  the  Italian  painters  of  this 
period,  N.  d'Anvers  says :  "  We  find  a  simultaneous  fulfill- 
ment of  all  the  great  principles  of  painting ;  form,  design, 
and  expression  had  been  perfected  in  the  Roman  and  Flor- 
entine schools  by  Michel  Angelo,  Leonardo  da  Vinci,  and 
Raphael;  and  coloring  and  chiaroscuro  in  the  schools  of 
Venice ;  Parma  by  Correggio  and  Titian  and  Paolo  Veronese  ; 
spiritual  beauty  had  found  its  noblest  exponent  in  Raphael, 
and  corporeal  in  Titian ;  the  art  of  portraiture  had  attained 
its  highest  development;  landscape  painting,  properly  so 
called,  though  not  much  practiced,  had  been  greatly  im- 
proved, and  genre  painting  had  been  introduced.  The 
religious  subjects  almost  exclusively  favored  in  the  thir- 
teenth century  had  given  place  to  some  extent  to  those  of 
antique  mythology  and  history,  and  a  general  love  of  art 
pervaded  all  classes." 

Raphael  died  in  1520,  and  soon  after  this  a  rapid  decline 
in  painting  took  place  in  all  parts  of  Italy  except  Venice. 
A  large  portion  of  the  country  was  devastated  by  war.  In 
1527  Rome  was  sacked  by  Charles  V.  The  city  never  re- 
gained its  former  splendor.  The  art  schools  were  dispersed 
and  ruined,  and  the  artists  found  no  other  center  of  en- 
couragement and  support.  Florence  was  captured  in  1530. 
The  desolation  of  war  was  supplemented  by  the  horrors  of 
the  plague,  and  the  ruin  of  art  in  Italy  was  for  a  time 
nearly  complete.  The  Italian  civic  states  were  supplanted 
by  petty  despotic  governments  of  foreign  extraction,  which 
ruled  in  the  interest  of  the  trading  class,  and  the  public 
patronage  of  art  wholly  ceased. 

The  decline  of  art  in  Italy  was  nearly  contemporary  with 
its  spread  over  northern  and  western  Europe.  Gothic 
architecture,  which  had  been  adopted  in  northern  Europe, 
was  unfavorable  to  the  development  of  painting.  The  large 
colored  glass  windows  in  the  churches  left  little  room  for 
pictures  on  the  walls.  Furthermore,  the  influence  of  classic 
Greek  art  was  felt  sooner  in  Italy  than  in  Germany.  For 
these  reasons  painting  had  a  slower  growth  in  northern 
Europe  than  in  Italy. 

Flanders  emerged  from  the  barbarism  of  the  middle  ages 
sooner  than  most  other  countries.  The  great  commercial 
and  manufacturing  cities  established  there  attained  a  high 


The  Evolution  of  Painting.  369 

degree  of  civilization  in  comparatively  early  times,  and  the 
art  of  painting  developed  earlier  than  in  Germany.  The 
paintings  of  the  earlier  Flemish  artists  were  nearly  all 
destroyed  by  Christian  iconoclasts,  and  little  is  known  of 
the  painters  living  previous  to  the  fifteenth  century. 

The  brothers  Van  Eyck,  who  were  born  in  the  latter  part 
of  the  fourteenth  century,  discovered  a  new  method  of  ap- 
plying colors,  with  oils,  and  carried  the  art  of  painting  to  a 
high  degree  of  perfection.  After  the  death  of  these  artists 
painting  rapidly  declined.  But  two  centuries  later  we  find 
two  of  the  great  names  of  history — Rubens  of  Belgium  and 
Rembrandt  of  Holland. 

In  Germany,  painting  reached  its  highest  development  in 
the  beginning  of  the  sixteenth  century.  Albert  Durer  and 
Hans  Holbein  are  its  great  masters.  After  the  death  of 
Durer,  in  1520,  Germany  was  convulsed  by  the  religious 
wars  and  social  revolutions  of  the  Reformation  period, 
which  had  a  destructive  influence  upon  art. 

The  art  of  painting  made  little  headway  in  Spain  until 
the  sixteenth  century,  and  owes  its  origin  largely  to  Italian 
and  Flemish  influences.  It  was  not  until  the  seventeenth 
century  that  the  great  names  of  Murillo  and  Velasquez  ap- 
peared. As  a  portrait  painter  Velasquez  has  had  few  equals 
and  perhaps  no  superiors. 

Although  French  writers  claim  an  early  origin  for  the 
practice  of  painting  in  France,  it  appears  that  the  early 
French  painters  chiefly  excelled  in  glass  painting  and  in  the 
illuminating  of  manuscripts.  There  seems  to  have  been  no 
distinctive  French  school  until  a  comparatively  recent  period. 
Francis  I  did  much  to  encourage  art  in  France.  He  invited 
Da  Vinci  and  other  Italian  artists  into  his  service.  A  great 
part  of  Michel  Angelo's  designs  and  cartoons  and  two  cases 
of  his  models  were  taken  to  France,  and  also  a  large  number 
of  antique  statues  and  busts.  Florence  was  stripped  of 
paintings  and  statues.  Raphael  painted  his  Transfiguration 
and  other  works  for  France.  The  superficial  character  of  the 
French  people,  taken  in  connection  with  unfavorable  social 
conditions,  has  done  much  to  retard  the  growth  of  art.  But 
France  can  boast  of  many  painters  of  great  merit,  and  at 
present  the  French  school  is  perhaps  the  leading  school  of 
the  world. 

Painting  in  England  is  of  recent  growth ;  in  fact,  it  be- 
longs almost  wholly  to  the  last  century  and  a  half.  The 
growth  of  art  was  very  much  retarded  by  the  many  religious 


370  The  Evolution  of  Painting. 

and  political  revolutions  to  which  England  was  subjected. 
While  Francis  I  was  encouraging  art,  Henry  VIII  was  en- 
gaged in  a  hot  controversy  with  Luther,  and  a  little  later  he 
had  a  hotter  controversy  with  the  Pope.  While  the  French 
were  bringing  works  of  art  from  Italy,  the  English  were 
burning  paintings  and  covering  the  pictures  in  their  churches 
with  a  coat  of  whitewash,  and  putting  up  Scripture  texts 
in  their  places.  The  Madonnas  were  replaced  by  the  second 
commandment.  Barry  maintains  that  if  the  ancient  Greeks 
had  been  of  the  same  leaven  as  the  original  English  Quakers 
or  Puritans,  they  would  never  have  excelled  in  art. 

The  first  English  painter  to  attract  attention  was  William 
Hogarth.  His  work  was  all  done  in  the  eighteenth  century. 
Since  the  time  of  Hogarth,  England  has  produced  many 
painters  of  note.  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  and  Thomas  Gains- 
borough excelled  in  portraits,  Landseer  as  a  painter  of  ani- 
mals, and  Turner  in  landscape.  Euskin  mentions  Reynolds 
and  Turner  as  the  only  supreme  colorists  among  true  paint- 
ers outside  of  the  Venetian  school,  and  gives  it  as  his  opin- 
ion that  Turner  was  the  greatest  painter  of  all  time. 

While  the  people  of  the  United  States  have  given  their 
attention  largely  to  trade  and  manufacture  and  the  develop- 
ment of  the  country,  they  have  by  no  means  neglected  art. 
We  have  already  many  painters  of  real  merit,  and  the  future 
is  full  of  promise. 

There  has  been  much  discussion  regarding  the  influence 
of  climate  and  other  physical  causes  upon  the  development 
of  art.  Buckle  states  that  earthquakes  have  had  a  stimulat- 
ing effect  on  the  imagination,  and  that  this  particularly  ac- 
counts for  the  genius  displayed  by  the  Italian  and  Spanish 
painters.  Taine  attributes  the  superiority  of  the  Flemish 
and  Venetian  painters  in  coloring  to  the  hazy  atmosphere 
which  prevailed  in  Flanders  and  Venice.  He  asserts  that 
Rubens  and  Titian  merely  copied  nature  as  they  saw  it.  It 
may  be  added  that  Taine,  in  his  lectures  on  the  Philosophy 
of  Art,  has  carried  the  materialistic  theory  of  progress  to  its 
extreme  limit.  He  maintains  that  the  art  of  a  period  is  the 
product  of  all  the  physical,  intellectual,  and  social  forces  of 
the  time.  That  the  Last  Supper  of  Da  Vinci  was  as  much 
the  product  of  all  the  forces  of  his  time  as  was  a  stratum  of 
Potsdam  sandstone  of  the  age  in  which  it  was  formed. 

Religion  has  everywhere  exercised  great  influence  over  art. 
In  Egypt  painting  was  under  the  immediate  control  of  a 
religion  which  paralyzed  the  artistic  genius  of  the  people  by 


The  Evolution  of  Painting.  371 

making  all  innovations  a  crime,  and  by  making  the  profes- 
sion of  the  artist  hereditary  and  compulsory.  Dissection 
was  prohibited,  and  therefore  a  knowledge  of  anatomy  was 
rendered  impossible. 

In  India  religion  ever  soared  to  the  unnatural  and  the  pro- 
digious, and  consequently  art  was  completely  turned  away 
from  nature.  The  faculty  for  accurately  copying  nature  was 
lost,  and  the  imagination  of  the  artist  reveled  in  the  gro- 
tesque and  the  terrible. 

The  Koran  contains  the  following :  "  0  ye  faithful,  of  a 
truth,  wine,  gaming,  images,  and  the  casting  of  lots  are 
things  to  be  held  in  abhorrence."  Another  declaration  of 
more  emphatic  character  was  also  attributed  to  the  Prophet : 
"  Woe  unto  him  who  paints  the  likeness  of  a  living  thing : 
on  the  Day  of  Judgment  those  whom  he  has  depicted  will 
rise  up  out  of  their  graves  and  ask  him  for  their  souls. 
Then,  verily,  unable  to  make  the  work  of  his  hands  live,  he 
will  be  consumed  in  everlasting  flames."  The  baneful  effects 
of  these  prohibitions  are  seen  wherever  the  religion  of  Mo- 
hammed has  prevailed.  The  art  of  painting  has  never  flour- 
ished in  any  Mohammedan  country. 

The  influence  of  the  Hebrew  religion  was  in  the  same 
direction.  The  commandment,  "Thou  shalt  not  make 
unto  thee  any  graven  image  or  any  likeness  of  any  thing 
that  is  in  heaven  above,  or  that  is  in  the  earth  beneath,  or 
that  is  in  the  water  under  the  earth,"  had  a  repressing  in- 
fluence upon  both  painting  and  sculpture.  Origen  says  that 
artists  were  forbidden  to  enter  the  Jewish  state. 

The  religion  of  Greece,  on  the  other  hand,  was  especially 
favorable  to  the  development  of  both  painting  and  sculpt- 
ure. Being  nearly  a  pure  nature  worship,  it  led  directly  to 
a  careful  study  of  nature.  Beauty  was  the  highest  object 
of  worship.  The  deities  were  represented  in  human  form 
and  were  models  of  physical  excellence. 

All  manual  labor  being  performed  by  slaves,  the  free 
Greek  was  able  to  spend  his  time  in  the  gymnasium  and 
bath,  and  in  training  for  athletic  games.  Greater  atten- 
tion was  given  to  the  development  of  the  body  than  to  the 
cultivation  of  the  mind.  The  athletic  games  occupied  a 
large  place  in  the  life  of  the  people,  and  physical  strength 
and  beauty  were  held  in  the  highest  admiration.  The 
clothing  worn  on  ordinary  occasions  was  of  such  a  loose 
character  as  to  expose  a  large  portion  of  the  body,  and  in 
the  games  the  participants  appeared  perfectly  nude.  In 


372  The  Evolution  of  Painting. 

the  gymnasium,  which  was  one  of  the  sacred  institutions  of 
the  country,  both  men  and  women  appeared  nearly  if  not 
quite  naked.  As  a  result,  the  ideas  of  modesty  were  trans- 
formed. Nakedness  was  associated  with  dignity  rather 
than  with  shame.  The  gods,  it  was  said,  were  naked,  and 
they  were  so  represented  in  art.  To  represent  a  king  naked 
was  deemed  the  highest  form  of  flattery,  because  it  was  to 
represent  his  apotheosis. 

Under  these  circumstances  the  human  body  reached  a 
perfection  of  form  which  has  never  been  attained  in  any 
other  country  or  age,  and  artists  were  constantly  furnished 
with  the  most  perfect  and  beautiful  of  models.  The  human 
form  was  glorified  and  idealized,  and  every  effort  was  made 
to  secure  perfection  in  its  representation  in  sculpture  and 
painting.  The  statues  and  paintings  thus  produced  have 
served  as  models  during  all  subsequent  time,  and  have  exer- 
cised a  lasting  influence  upon  the  art  of  the  world. 

There  is  one  unfortunate  circumstance  to  be  noticed  in 
this  connection.  The  Greek  idea  of  modesty  is  not  in  har- 
mony with  that  of  the  Christian  world.  The  students  of 
Greek  art  have  had  a  constant  struggle  with  our  modern 
civilization.  The  Christian  world  has  always  been  opposed 
to  nude  figures,  especially  in  painting.  Italian  morals  in 
the  fifteenth  and  sixteenth  centuries  were  so  lax,  and  the 
influence  of  the  painters  was  so  great,  that  the  feeling  of 
the  Church  was  to  a  certain  extent  overcome.  But  even 
Michel  Angelo's  influence  was  not  great  enough  to  prevent 
his  figures  from  being  draped  by  order  of  the  Pope.  It  is 
probable  that  if  our  ideas  of  modesty  had  prevailed  among 
the  Greeks  they  could  never  have  boasted  of  a  Phidias  or  an 
Apelles,  and  perhaps  Italy  would  never  have  had  a  Michel 
Angelo  or  a  Titian.  But  be  that  as  it  may,  it  must  be  ad- 
mitted that  the  three  hundred  good  mothers  in  Philadel- 
phia who  protested  the  other  day  against  the  pictures  of 
naked  figures  which  were  on  exhibition  in  that  city  are 
more  in  harmony  with  our  civilization  than  the  committee 
which  denied  their  petition ;  and  undoubtedly  they  repre- 
sent the  judgment  of  a  large  majority  of  the  people  of  our 
country. 

The  discouraging  influence  of  the  second  commandment 
upon  art  was  not  confined  to  early  Jewish  times,  but  was 
extended  with  the  spread  of  Christianity  and  was  felt  as 
late  as  the  seventeenth  century. 

Although  the  early  Christian  painters  were  pagans  by 


The  Evolution  of  Painting.  373 

education,  the  effect  of  the  new  religious  ideas  was  at  once 
apparent.  Christianity  opposed  the  pagan  mythology  and 
idolatry,  and  the  early  Christian  artists  were  not  allowed  to 
represent  the  Deity  in  human  form.  This  led  to  the  use 
of  symbols.  Christ  was  represented  by  a  lamb ;  the  Holy 
Ghost,  by  a  dove  ;  purity,  by  a  lily ;  immortality,  by  a  pea- 
cock ;  sin  and  paganism,  by  a  serpent  or  dragon ;  zeal  or 
fervor  of  soul,  by  fire ;  God  was  sometimes  represented  by  a 
hand  pointing  to  a  cloud.  In  692  a  council  of  the  Church 
authorized  the  direct  representation  of  Christ  instead  of  a 
symbol. 

Many  of  the  early  church  fathers  considered  the  second 
commandment  a  prohibition  of  all  painting  and  sculpture, 
and  an  effort  was  made  to  enforce  it.  Good  Father  Tertul- 
lian  did  not  hesitate  to  denounce  artists  as  persons  of  "  in- 
iquitous occupations."  He  expresses  himself  in  the  follow- 
ing vigorous  language :  "  There  was  a  time  past  when  the 
idol  did  not  exist ;  the  sacred  places  were  unoccupied  and 
the  temples  void.  But  when  the  devil  brought  in  makers 
of  statues  and  images  and  all  kinds  of  likenesses  on  the 
world,  all  the  raw  material  of  human  misery  and  the  name 
of  idols  followed  it.  And  ever  since  then  any  art  which 
produces  an  idol  in  any  way  is  the  source  of  idolatry.  It 
makes  no  difference  whether  the  workman  makes  it  in  clay, 
or  a  sculptor  carves  it,  or  if  he  weaves  it  in  Phrygian  cloth, 
because  it  is  no  consequence  as  to  the  substance  an  idol  is 
formed  of,  whether  it  be  plaster,  or  colors,  or  stone,  or  brass, 
or  silver,  or  canvas."  Furthermore,  Tertullian  did  not  hesi- 
tate to  prove  his  faith  by  his  works.  He  would  not  allow  any 
artist  to  be  baptized  until  he  had  foresworn  his  art,  and  if 
any  artist  was  found  in  the  Church  he  was  excommunicated. 

The  opposition  to  painting  and  sculpture  was  based 
principally  upon  the  fact  that  it  was  supposed  to  promote 
idolatry.  The  war  against  "  images  "  extended  over  a  large 
part  of  the  Christian  world  at  one  time  or  another.  The 
use  of  sacred  pictures  in  churches  aroused  the  greatest  op- 
position. St.  Augustine  says  there  were  many  worshipers 
of  tombs  and  pictures  in  his  day ;  that  the  Church  condemned 
them  and  strove  to  correct  them.  Sirenus,  Bishop  of  Mar- 
seilles, ordered  all  the  images  in  his  diocese  to  be  destroyed. 
Among  the  decrees  promulgated  by  the  Council  of  Illiberus 
in  Spain  is  the  following :  "  It  is  ordered  that  there  be  no 
pictures  in  church,  lest  that  which  we  worship  and  adore 
be  painted  on  the  walls." 


374  The  Evolution  of  Painting. 

It  was  in  the  eastern  part  of  the  empire  that  the  fight 
regarding  images  waxed  hottest.  In  726  A.  D.  the  Emperor 
Leo  III  published  an  edict  against  image  worship.  This 
was  followed  by  a  decree  of  the  Council  of  Constantinople 
condemning  all  worship  and  use  of  images,  and  excommuni- 
cating all  persons  who  violated  the  decree.  Thousands  of 
statues  and  paintings  were  destroyed;  artists  were  im- 
prisoned, and  some  of  them  were  drowned  or  burned.  Eiot 
and  massacre  were  common,  and  occasionally  the  contest 
amounted  to  civil  war.  The  struggle  lasted  more  than  a 
century  and  finally  disrupted  the  empire. 

Many  of  the  early  fathers  held  views  of  the  most  extreme 
character.  Clemens  Alexandrinus  gave  it  as  his  opinion 
that  ladies  broke  the  second  commandment  by  using  look- 
ing-glasses, because  they  thereby  made  images  of  themselves. 

But  the  Church  party  favoring  the  use  of  images  finally 
triumphed.  The  Pope  opposed  the  iconoclastic  movement 
from  the  start.  In  787  a  general  council  at  Nice  decided 
that  pictures  of  Christ,  the  Virgin  Mary,  angels  and  saints, 
might  be  set  up  in  churches.  This  was  subsequently  con- 
firmed by  a  synod  at  Constantinople,  and  later  by  the 
Council  of  Trent.  The  practice  of  placing  pictures  of  sacred 
objects  in  the  churches  was  fully  established  both  in  eastern 
and  western  Europe.  This  was  of  great  importance  to  art. 
The  encouragement  which  Italian  artists  received  by  their 
employment  in  the  decoration  of  churches  was  one  of  the 
leading  factors  in  the  development  of  painting  in  Italy. 

Some  superstitions  of  the  middle  ages  are  curiously  illus- 
trated in  the  history  of  painting.  Many  paintings  were 


supposed  to  have  been  miraculously  produced.  Some  came 
down  from  heaven;  others  were  dug  out  of  the  earth; 
others  were  capable  of  reproducing  themselves.  Some  could 


cure  disease ;  others  helped  to  win  battles  in  war.  Many 
Madonnas  were  attributed  to  St.  Luke  the  Evangelist,  and 
a  picture  of  the  Saviour  was  supposed  to  have  been  pro- 
duced by  Christ  himself.  This  picture  was  captured  by  the 
Saracens,  and  was  afterward  sold  to  Constantinople  for  the 
handsome  sum  of  twelve  thousand  pounds  of  silver.  Several 
of  the  Madonnas  by  St.  Luke  are  still  extant.  This  evangel- 
ist seems  to  have  had  a  great  reputation  everywhere  as  a 
painter,  and  he  was  the  patron  of  many  art  schools.  One 
of  the  statutes  regulating  the  corporation  of  painting  at 
Sienna  was  headed  as  follows :  "  In  the  name  of  the  Al- 
mighty God  and  of  his  blessed  Mother,  the  Holy  Virgin 


The  Evolution  of  Painting.  375 

Mary,  and  of  all  the  saints  of  the  Court  of  Heaven,  and 
especially  of  the  blessed  Luke,  the  evangelist,  chief  and 
guide  of  all  painters,  who  painted  and  drew  the  image  of 
the  Virgin  Mary,  Mother  of  the  Son  of  God." 

The  ascetic  movement  among  the  early  Christians  had  a 
very  unhealthful  influence  upon  art.  They  regarded  the 
body  as  a  temptation  to  evil  and  sought  on  all  occasions  to 
mortify  and  subdue  its  passions  and  desires.  To  this  end 
they  submitted  to  starvation  and  all  kinds  of  torture.  Christ 
was  believed  to  have  been  deformed  and  one  of  the  ugliest 
of  men.  Instead  of  the  healthy,  well-rounded,  beautiful 
figures  of  the  Greeks,  the  early  Christian  painters  produced 
"  melancholy  Christs,  with  large,  ill-shaped  eyes,  looking 
forth  into  space  and  seeing  nothing;  Madonnas  with  a 
deep  olive-green  complexion,  suggesting  a  bilious  tempera- 
ment; infant  Saviours  whose  attenuated  limbs  and  old- 
looking  faces  would  seem  to  speak  of  the  most  direful 
effects  of  starvation  ;  saints  with  distorted  arms  and  legs  and 
emaciated  to  a  degree  that  even  St.  Simon  Stylites  might 
envy." 

About  the  close  of  the  eighth  century  the  Pope  issued  a 
bull  decreeing  that  Christ  must  be  represented  with  all  the 
attributes  of  the  divine  that  art  could  lend  him ;  but  it  was 
not  until  the  Italian  artists  commenced  the  study  of  classic 
Greek  sculpture  that  they  were  able  to  counteract  the  in- 
fluence of  an  ascetic  religion.  The  Italian  art  of  the  middle 
ages  was  almost  wholly  religious.  In  fact,  it  was  not  until 
the  time  of  Titian  and  Michel  Angelo  that  it  was  partially 
secularized. 

In  Spain  the  growth  of  art  was  retarded  at  first  by  the 
Mohammedan  religion,  and  in  later  times  by  the  deep  super- 
stition of  the  people.  As  late  as  the  sixteenth  century  many 
of  the  artists  rivaled  the  Eastern  hermits  in  their  asceticism. 
One  painter,  we  are  told,  was  in  the  habit  of  lying  in  a 
coffin  several  hours  a  day,  contemplating  death.  Paintings 
divinely  inspired  and  which  were  able  to  work  miracles 
were  very  common. 

The  Spanish  Inquisition  was  not  content  with  providing 
the  people  with  knowledge  regarding  geography  and  astron- 
omy, but  turned  its  attention  to  art  as  well.  Kigid  rules 
were  made  for  painters,  and  inspectors  were  appointed  to 
see  that  the  rules  were  enforced.  The  sublime  assurance  of 
some  of  these  inspectors  was  only  equaled  by  their  zeal. 
They  did  not  hesitate  to  criticise  Michel  Angelo  and 


376  The  Evolution  of  Painting. 

Titian.  Michel  Angelo  was  especially  condemned  because 
in  the  Last  Judgment  he  pictured  "the  angels  without 
wings  and  the  saints  without  clothes." 

But  the  baneful  influence  of  superstition  was  not  con- 
fined to  southern  Europe.  In  Flanders,  as  late  as  the  six- 
teenth century,  there  was  a  wholesale  destruction  of  paint- 
ings by  religious  fanatics.  And  the  slow  development  of  art 
in  England  was  largely  due  to  the  influence  of  religion.  On 
this  subject  an  English  historian  says :  "  It  is  mortifying 
to  reflect  that  the  ^Reformation,  favorable  as  it  was  to  the 
exercise  of  the  human  intellect  and  the  general  cause  of 
human  liberty,  had  in  this  country  at  least  a  very  chilling 
effect  upon  the  state  of  the  fine  arts.  In  the  reign  'of 
Edward  VI  images  and  pictures  were  not  only  ejected 
from  the  churches,  but  the  people  were  taught  to  hold  in 
abhorrence  all  graphical  representations  of  sacred  objects. 
Queen  Elizabeth  went  further,  and  issued  a  decree  for 
obliterating  all  such  delineations  on  the  walls  of  churches 
by  whitewashing  them  and  inscribing  sentences  of  Holy 
Writ  in  the  room  of  these  figures.  When,  about  seventy 
years  afterward,  the  spirit  of  Puritanism  gained  the  ascend- 
ency and  broke  down  all  the  barriers  of  the  Constitution, 
civil  and  ecclesiastic,  the  ornaments  in  the  churches  were 
among  the  first  objects  of  spoliation  and  destruction ;  the 
churches  were  converted  into  barracks  for  soldiers  and 
stabling  for  horses ;  everything  of  value  was  carried  off,  and 
men  were  hired  by  the  governing  powers  at  a  daily  stipend 
to  tear  down  crosses  and  images  wherever  they  could  be 
found,  and  to  break  in  pieces  the  beautiful  paintings  in  the 
church  windows ;  all  sacred  pictures  were  commanded  to  be 
destroyed  by  an  express  ordinance  of  parliament." 

It  will  thus  be  seen  that  the  history  of  art  has  been 
intimately  associated  with  that  of  religion ;  while  at  times 
religion  has  been  the  chief  opponent  of  progress  in  art,  on 
other  occasions  it  has  been  the  chief  source  of  encourage- 
ment. 

In  surveying  the  history  of  art,  one  is  forcibly  impressed 
by  the  fact  that  in  nearly  every  country  the  rise  of  painting 
has  been  almost  immediately  followed  by  a  decline.  In 
some  countries  these  changes  have  been  repeated  several 
times.  Some  of  the  causes  are  easily  observed.  Prominent 
among  these  may  be  mentioned  a  decadence  of  morals, 
barbaric  invasions,  civil  war,  conquest  by  foreign  powers, 
loss  of  free  institutions,  plagues,  and  famines.  Another 


The  Evolution  of  Painting.  377 

cause  more  intimately  connected  with  the  practice  of  paint- 
ing itself  has  had  a  powerful  influence  in  promoting  decay. 
Whenever  there  has  been  a  general  movement  away  from 
the  observation  and  truthful  representation  of  nature,  and 
an  effort  to  copy  or  imitate  existing  paintings,  an  immediate 
decline  has  always  followed.  On  this  point  Euskin  says  : 
"  So  long  as  Art  is  steady  in  the  contemplation  and  exhibi- 
tion of  natural  facts,  so  long  she  herself  lives  and  grows. 
But  a  time  has  always  hitherto  come  in  which,  having 
thus  reached  a  singular  perfection,  she  begins  to  contem- 
plate that  perfection  and  to  imitate  it,  and  to  deduce  forms 
and  rules  from  it,  and  thus  to  forget  her  duties  and  ministry 
as  the  discoverer  of  truth.  And  in  the  very  instant  when 
this  diversion  of  her  purpose  and  forgetf ulness  of  her  func- 
tion take  place — forgetfulness  generally  coincident  with  her 
apparent  perfection — in  that  instant,  I  say,  begins  her 
actual  catastrophe." 

In  the  matter  of  painting,  the  nineteenth  century  com- 
pares favorably  with  any  other  period  in  the  world's  history. 
In  some  parts  of  Russia  where  the  Greek  Church  still  tyr- 
annizes over  the  people,  the  old  Byzantine  style  still  prevails. 
But  outside  of  the  countries  under  the  influence  of  the  Mo- 
hammedan or  Greek  Christian  religions  the  art  of  painting 
is  at  the  present  time  flourishing  everywhere  in  Europe. 
During  no  other  century  have  there  been  so  many  great 
painters  or  so  many  people  who  appreciate  art. 

It  is  sometimes  claimed  that  the  fine  arts  have  a  deleteri- 
ous effect  upon  morals.  Even  Ruskin  has  been  quoted  in 
support  of  this  theory.  His  statement  is  as  follows  :  "  His- 
torically, great  success  in  art  is  apparently  connected  with 
subsequent  national  degradation.  You  find,  in  the  first 
place,  that  the  nations  which  possessed  a  refined  art  were 
always  subdued  by  those  who  possessed  none ;  you  find  the 
Lydian  subdued  by  the  Mede ;  the  Greek  by  the  Roman ; 
the  Roman  by  the  Goth ;  the  Burgundian  by  the  Switzer ; 
but  you  find  beyond  this  that  even  where  no  attack  by  an 
external  power  has  accelerated  the  catastrophe  of  the  state, 
the  period  in  which  any  given  people  reach  their  highest 
power  in  art  is  precisely  that  in  which  they  appear  to  sign 
the  warrant  of  their  own  ruin ;  and  that  from  the  moment 
in  which  a  perfect  statue  appears  in  Florence,  a  perfect  pict- 
ure in  Venice,  or  a  perfect  fresco  in  Rome,  from  that  hour 
forward,  probity,  industry,  and  courage  seemed  to  be  exiled 
from  their  walls,  and  they  perish  in  a  sculpturesque  paraly- 
26 


378  The  Evolution  of  Painting. 

sis,  or  a  many-colored  corruption.  But  even  this  is  not  all. 
As  art  seems  thus,  in  its  delicate  form,  to  be  one  of  the 
chief  promoters  of  indolence  and  sensuality — so  I  need 
hardly  remind  you,  it  hitherto  has  appeared  only  in  ener- 
getic manifestation,  when  it  was  in  the  service  of  supersti- 
tion. The  four  greatest  manifestations  of  the  human  intel- 
lect which  founded  the  four  principal  kingdoms  of  art — 
Egyptians,  Babylonians,  Greeks,  and  Italians — were  devel- 
oped by  the  strong  excitement  of  active  superstition  in  the 
worship  of  Osiris,  Belus,  Minerva,  and  the  Queen  of  Heaven. 
Therefore,  to  speak  briefly,  it  may  appear  very  difficult  to 
show  that  art  has  ever  yet  existed  in  a  consistent  and  thor- 
oughly energetic  school,  unless  it  was  engaged  in  the  propa- 
gation of  falsehood  or  the  encouragement  of  vice." 

Perhaps  we  may  charitably  assume  that  when  Ruskin 
wrote  this  he  was  suffering  from  an  attack  of  dyspepsia. 
At  least,  on  another  occasion,  he  took  pains  to  show  the  fal- 
lacy in  this  argument.  He  showed  that  the  decline  of  mor- 
als in  Greece  and  Italy  was  not  caused  by  art,  but  was  mere- 
ly a  concomitant  circumstance.  The  rainbow  which  is  seen 
at  Niagara  is  not  the  cause  of  the  cataract. 

There  is  doubtless  more  reason  for  saying  that  a  decline, 
in  morals  has  a  destructive  influence  upon  art  than  tor  say- 
ing that  a  perfect  art  has  an  injurious  effect  upon  morals. 
It  is  admitted  that  some  paintings,  like  some  books,  have  a 
bad  influence,  but  it  is  also  true  that  paintings,  like  books, 
have  on  the  whole  done  much  to  promote  the  advancement 
of  the  race,  both  intellectually  and  morally. 

It  will  not  be  denied  that  the  Christian  religion  has  been 
pre-eminent  as  a  teacher  of  morals ;  and  yet,  before  the  in- 
vention of  printing  in  Europe,  painting  was  one  of  the  chief 
mediums  of  instruction  in  religion. 

Unquestionably  the  fine  arts  have  added  to  the  sum  of 
human  happiness,  have  made  the  world  better.  The  influ- 
ence of  a  beautiful  picture  is  like  that  of  a  beautiful  flower. 
It  appeals  to  the  better  elements  in  man's  nature.  It  calls 
him  to  a  higher  life  than  that  of  sense.  In  the  language  of 
Parry,  "  Art  is  truly  a  divine  seed,  whose  fruit  is  for  the 
sweetness  of  man's  life." 


The  Evolution  of  Painting.  379 


ABSTRACT  OF  THE  DISCUSSION. 

Ma.  JOHN  H.  LITTLEFIELD  : 

As  an  historical  sketch  of  the  development  of  the  art  of  painting,  I 
find  little  to  criticise  in  the  lecture  of  the  evening.  As  an  artist,  how- 
ever, certain  facts  connected  with  the  evolution  of  the  technique  of 
this  art  come  to  my  mind,  which  may  be  of  supplementary  interest. 
Art  is,  unquestionably,  one  of  the  civilizing  influences  of  the  world. 
Its  development  has  been  coincident  with  that  of  civilization.  The 
spirit  of  an  epoch  gives  color  and  character  to  its  art.  While  the 
materialistic  spirit  predominates  to-day  in  America,  and  antagonizes 
the  highest  development  of  the  art  spirit,  we  may  hope  that  it  will 
ultimately  react  through  the  development  of  liberality  among  the 
wealthy  until  this  country  shall  take  its  place  as  the  home  of  art  in  the 
future.  In  regard  to  the  evolution  of  the  technique  of  the  painter's 
art,  it  may  be  noted  that  in  its  earliest  exercise — as,  for  example,  in  the 
mural  paintings  of  Egypt — its  form  was  the  simplest  and  most  homo- 
geneous ;  the  color  was  applied  to  flat  surfaces,  without  differences  in 
texture  or  shading.  Figures  were  represented  without  background  or 
suggestion  of  perspective.  These  elements  are  of  comparatively  recent 
development.  Then,  following  nature,  the  painter  learned  to  repre- 
sent shaded  parts  of  his  picture  by  thin  applications  of  pigment,  and 
the  lighter  and  more  prominent  parts  by  thicker  layers  of  color. 
Later  we  find  painters  differentiated  into  different  schools  according 
to  their  style  or  technique — their  methods  of  imitating  nature.  We 
have  the  impasto  school,  where  the  colors  are  laid  in  with  solidity — in 
mass,  so  to  speak — and  the  opposite  school,  where  the  tracery  is  more 
delicate,  and  greater  attention  is  paid  to  the  minutife  of  drawing  and 
outline.  Other  schools  have  differentiated  as  the  followers  of  great 
masters  who  have  impressed  their  genius  and  individuality  on  their 
art.  Their  pupils  have  imitated  the  work  of  the  master,  and  perpetu- 
ated the  peculiarities  of  his  style.  The  knowledge  of  chiaroscuro,  of 
the  laws  of  light  and  shade,  of  which  Leonardo  was  the  first  great 
master,  led  to  a  further  differentiation  of  this  art.  We  have  historical 
evidence  that  there  were  great  painters  in  Greece  as  early  as  the  time 
of  Alexander  the  Great,  though  their  work,  being  less  indestructible 
than  that  of  the  sculptor,  has  not  survived  to  our  day.  It  is  doubtless 
true,  however,  that  this  art  has  reached  its  highest  evolution  in  our 
own  time. 


380  The  Evolution  of  Painting. 

DR.  LEWIS  G.  JANES  : 

If  my  friend  Dr.  Dickerman  were  present,  I  imagine  that  he  might 
have  a  word  of  criticism  upon  the  remarks  of  the  lecturer  concerning 
the  illustrations  of  the  painter's  art  which  we  find  upon  the  monu- 
ments and  tombs  of  ancient  Egypt.  Though  conventional,  the  Egyp- 
tian painter  or  sculptor  aimed  at  the  production  of  true  portrait-like- 
nesses, and  succeeded  so  well  that  the  portraits  of  the  great  kings  are 
always  recognizable.  It  is  evident,  however,  that  the  art  of  painting 
was  much  more  immature  in  its  development  in  Egypt  and  Greece  than 
was  the  art  of  sculpture.  It  will  be  remembered  that  Prof.  Davidson 
suggested  a  philosophical  reason  for  this  fact  in  the  subordination 
of  the  love  or  emotional  element  to  the  more  intellectual  or  mathe- 
matical conception  of  the  beautiful.  The  love  or  emotional  element, 
which  gives  warmth  and  color  to  art,  found  freer  scope  after  the 
advent  of  Christianity,  which  has  consequently  stimulated  the  higher 
evolution  of  the  art  of  painting.  Referring  to  symbolism  in  art,  the 
speaker  said  he  had  often  thought  that  the  architect  who  superin- 
tended the  decoration  of  the  church  in  which  these  meetings  are  held 
must  have  smiled  quietly  when  he  introduced  so  profusely  the  trefoil, 
the  triple  scroll,  the  three-branched  gas-fixtures,  and  other  symbols  of 
the  trinitarian  idea.  These,  however,  were  the  conventional  forms  of 
church  decoration,  they  were  intrinsically  appropriate  and  beautiful, 
and  those  of  us  who  are  Unitarians,  if  we  are  also  evolutionists,  need 
not  object  to  this  architectural  recognition  of  the  relation  which  we 
hold  to  the  older  faith. 

MR.  LAWRENCE  E.  STERNER: 

I  regret  that  the  lecture  has  been  so  exclusively  historical  in  its 
character — that  the  lecturer  has  not  shown  us  more  clearly  the  intel- 
lectual side  of  the  growth  of  this  art,  its  relation  to  the  states  of 
culture  and  civilization  in  different  periods.  I  should  like  to  have 
seen  the  artist  traced,  as  a  growing  man,  from  the  time  of  the  cave- 
men to  him  who  is  the  product  of  the  highest  civilization  of  the 
present  day. 

MR.  RUNDELL,  in  closing,  said  that  the  limitation  of  time  had  com- 
pelled him  to  treat  only  a  single  phase  of  the  subject.  In  all  its 
branches  it  had  been  treated  in  a  thousand  volumes,  and  could  not  be 
rounded  into  one  short  lecture.  This  would  explain  the  deficiencies 
noted. 


THE 

EVOLUTION  OF  MUSIC 


BY 

Z.  SIDNEY  SAMPSON 

AUTHOR  OF  EVOLUTION  OF  THEOLOGY,   PRIMITIVE  MAN,   ETC. 


COLLATERAL  READINGS  SUGGESTED: 

Pole's  The  Philosophy  of  Music  ;  History  of  Music,  in  English  Cy- 
clopaedia, Science  and  Arts  Division  ;  Helmholtz's  On  the  Sensations 
of  Tone  as  a  Physiological  Basis  for  the  Theory  of  Music ;  Hullah's 
History  of  Modern  Music,  and  The  Transition  Period  of  Musical  His- 
tory ;  Rockstro's  History  of  Music  ;  Naumann's  History  of  Music ;  Ha- 
weis's  Music  and  Morals ;  Robert  Schumann's  Music  and  Musicians ; 
Hand's  -(Esthetics  of  Musical  Art ;  Spencer's  Origin  and  Function  of 
Music,  in  Illustrations  of  Universal  Progress ;  Blaserna's  The  Theory 
of  Sound  in  its  Relations  to  Music. 


"  True  music  is  the  natural  expression  of  a  lofty  passion 
for  a  right  cause.  In  proportion  to  the  kingliness  and 
force  of  any  personality,  the  expression  either  of  its  joy  or 
suffering  becomes  measured,  chastened,  calm,  and  capable 
of  interpretation  only  by  the  majesty  of  ordered,  beautiful, 
and  worded  sound.  Exactly  in  proportion  to  the  degree 
in  which  we  become  narrow  in  the  cause  and  conception  of 
our  passions,  incontinent  in  the  utterance  of  them,  feeble  of 
perseverance  in  them,  sullied  or  shameful  in  the  indul- 
gence of  them,  their  expression  by  musical  sound  becomes 
broken,  mean,  fatuitous,  and  at  last  impossible  ;  the  meas- 
ured waves  of  the  air  of  heaven  will  not  lend  themselves 
to  expression  of  ultimate  vice:  it  must  be  forever  sunk 
into  discordance  or  silence.  And  since  every  work  of  right 
art  has  a  tendency  to  reproduce  the  ethical  state  which  first 
developed  it,  this,  which  of  all  the  arts  is  most  directly 
ethical  in  origin,  is  also  the  most  direct  in  power  of  dis- 
cipline ;  the  first,  the  simplest,  the  most  effective  of  all  in- 
struments of  moral  instruction ;  while  in  the  failure  and 
betrayal  of  its  functions  it  becomes  the  siibtlest  aid  of 
moral  degradation.  Music  is  thus,  in  her  health,  the  teacher 
of  perfect  order,  and  is  the  voice  of  the  obedience  of  angels, 
and  the  companion  of  the  course  of  the  spheres  of  heaven." 

— Queen  of  the  Air. 


THE  EVOLUTION  OF  MUSIC. 

BY  Z.  SIDNEY   SAMPSON. 

THAT  the  laws  of  evolution  apply  to  the  development  of 
such  a  purely  subjective  art  as  Music  we  hope  to  demon- 
strate in  the  following  lecture.  Manifestly,  as  we  progress 
from  studies  of  external  phenomena,  as  in  the  domains  of 
biology  and  sociology,  to  the  more  recondite  studies  in 
psychological  evolution  and  the  growth  of  mind,  the 
problem  becomes  increasingly  complex.  As  all  phases  of 
art  are  distinctively  phases  of  mental  evolution,  the  applica- 
tion of  the  principles  of  the  latter  to  the  history  of  the 
former  will,  if  successful,  verify  the  claim  of  this  latest  and 
most  imposing  of  the  modern  philosophies  to  be  of  univer- 
sal application.  In  science  its  position  has  been  secured, 
owing  to  the  fact  that  it  deals  with  objective  phenomena, 
wherein  analysis  and  classification  are  possible ;  but  in  re- 
spect to  mental  phenomena,  while  the  laws  governing  men- 
tal progress  have  been  formulated,  there  is  still  much  work 
to  be  done  in  demonstrating,  from  the  history  of  the  sev 
eral  arts,  that  these  laws  are  valid.  All  the  arts  are  forms 
of  purely  mental  activity,  and  advance  in  these,  and  the 
improvement  of  the  forms  in  which  they  are  presented  is 
dependent  upon,  and  conditioned  exclusively  by,  mental 
progress,  and  is  a  certain  indication  of  the  latter  by  rea- 
son of  the  fact  that  in  all  art-work  the  materials  given 
in  experience  are,  through  the  innate  activity  of  the 
mind,  utilized  to  body  forth  the  ideals  which  it  has  con- 
ceived. 

The  increasing  complexity  of  which  we  have  spoken  be- 
comes more  apparent  as  we  pass  from  what  we  may  term 
the  static  arts — those  which  are  presented  in  line  and  form, 
viz.,  sculpture,  painting,  and  architecture — to  the  dynamic, 
which  produce  their  effects  by  succession  in  presentation — 
poetry,  oratory,  and  music.  The  former,  being  of  definite 
outline,  are  much  more  readily  studied  in  the  light  of  evolu- 
tion principles,  and  examples  of  sculpture  and  architecture 
remain  to  us  from  remote  antiquity ;  whereas  of  poetry  and 
oratory  the  remains  are  extremely  limited,  and  of  music  we 


386  The  Evolution  of  Music. 

can  say  that  we  know  nothing  which  can  serve  as  a  basis  for 
a  correct  history  of  music  in  all  its  departments  until  sev- 
eral centuries  after  the  Christian  era.  The  causes  are  not 
only  the  destruction  of  musical  manuscripts,  but  the  imper- 
fection in  the  progress  of  the  art  itself.  Music  is  the  last  of 
the  arts  to  develop.  It  did  not  attain  its  possibilities  of  ad- 
vancement until  the  eleventh  or  twelfth  centuries  as  will 
be  shown  further  on.  It  is,  moreover,  pre-eminently  the 
emotional  art — the  one  which  most  of  all  appeals  to  the  ab- 
stract imaginative  faculty,  and  which  relies  least  for  its 
effects  upon  external  form.  It  follows  that  a  high  civiliza- 
tion only  will  be  capable  of  producing  great  artistic,  crea- 
tive musical  composition,  a  civilization  higher  than  that 
which  attained  perfection  in  the  plastic  arts.  The  evolu- 
tion of  the  higher  emotional  faculties  succeeds  and  does  not 
precede  the  development  of  the  higher  intellect. 

FIRST  PERIOD. 
Development  of  Melody. 

In  the  treatment  of  our  subject  it  may  be  expected  that 
some  discussion  should  be  undertaken  as  to  the  remote  ori- 
gins of  music.  Such  arguments  as  might  be  adduced 
would,  however,  be  wholly  speculative.  We  may  surmise 
that  imitation  of  the  sounds  of  nature,  or  of  the  cries  and 
calls  of  animals,  was  a  factor  in  the  case ;  or  we  can  equally 
well  surmise  that  it  was  a  development  directly  due  to  the 
consciousness  of  possessing  a  faculty  of  vocalization  which 
led  primitive  man  to  his  first  exceedingly  rude  attempts  at 
what  he  might  have  called  music.  The  invention  of  musi- 
cal instruments  was  quite  certainly  a  merely  happy  chance. 
Noticing  sounds  produced  by  the  wind  over  some  distended 
substance,  or  caused  by  its  blowing  through  some  hollow 
reed  or  otherwise,  man,  from  motives  of  curiosity,  would  have 
endeavored  to  reproduce  them  by  his  own  action,  and  in  the 
course  of  ages  all  our  varieties  of  string  and  wind  instru- 
ments would  be  the  result,  under  the  law  of  evolution. 
Judging,  however,  by  analogy  from  existing  savage  and 
half -civilized  races,  he  satisfied  his  earliest  musical  instincts 
by  mere  noise,  produced  by  the  rhythmical  beating  of  hard 
substances  together,  accompanied  with  gesticulation,  danc- 
ing, and  clapping  of  hands,  all  of  which  arose  from  the 
necessity  of  giving  vent  to  his  emotions  in  every  way  which 


The  Evolution  of  Music.  387 

was  the  most  demonstrative.  So  the  barbarous  races  of  to- 
day are  satisfied  with  the  use  of  instruments  of  percussion — 
tom-toms,  gongs,  cymbals  ;  and  even  with  the  civilized  Chi- 
nese the  favorite  effects  are  produced  by  the  beating  of  cop- 
per plates,  bells,  stones,  or  wooden  tubs.  Khythmical 
movement  as  in  rude  dancing,  accompanied  with  gestures 
expressive  of  war  and  revenge,  with  shouting  and  battle 
cries,  all  appear  together  among  the  universal  practices  of 
the  earliest  tribes  of  which  we  have  any  account ;  by  which, 
however,  the  important  fact  clearly  is  shown  that  rhythm 
answers  to  some  innate  necessity  in  physical  expression. 
The  most  effective  and  stately  cadences  in  modern  music 
have  for  their  prototype  the  barbaric  yellings  and  fantastic 
dancing  of  our  savage  ancestors.  Nay,  if  we  follow  Darwin 
and  the  evolution  school  into  their  speculations  upon  the 
nebulous  past  of  the  race,  we  must  allow  that  even  some  of 
the  lowest  forms  of  animal  life  show  marked  sensitiveness 
to  musical  tones.  Even  some  crustaceans,  says  Darwin, 
possess  certain  auditory  hairs  which  have  been  seen  to 
vibrate  when  the  proper  musical  notes  are  struck.  All  ani- 
mals have  their  well-known  peculiar  cries.  "  The  gibbon," 
says  Darwin,  "  further  has  an  extremely  loud  but  musical 
voice,"  and  he  quotes  Prof.  Waterhouse  as  stating  that  "  it 
appeared  to  me  that,  in  ascending  and  descending  the  scale, 
the  intervals  were  always  exactly  half-tones,  and  I  am  sure 
that  the  highest  note  was  an  exact  octave  to  the  lowest." 
Instances  of  musical  instinct  in  animals  are  too  numerous 
to  call  for  remark. 

But  if  the  precise  origin  of  the  musical  faculty  is  un- 
known, so  also,  as  we  have  said,  are  the  beginnings  of  what 
we  call  music.  History  does  not  go  back  to  the  time  when 
we  do  not  find  the  earliest  nations  in  the  use  of  rude  musi- 
cal instruments,  and  with  some  capacity  of  rude  vocaliza- 
tion. Assyrians,  Egyptians,  Hindoos,  the  Chinese,  Japa- 
nese, and  especially  the  Hebrews,  have  already  when  we  first 
know  of  them  accomplished  a  very  considerable  advance 
over  savagery  in  the  musical  art.  Stringed  instruments  ap- 
pear to  have  made  the  greatest  advance  among  the  East 
Indians.  Of  Hebrew  music,  grand  as  it  undoubtedly  was, 
even  in  the  early  temple  services,  we  know  but  little,  except 
that  it  was  certainly  antiphonal.  It  is  claimed,  however, 
that  a  very  few  of  the  ancient  Hebrew  chants  are  still  sung 
in  some  of  the  synagogues  in  Europe.  We  have  no  space 
to  go  into  any  of  these  debated  topics  nor  into  the  uncer- 


388  The  Evolution  of  Music. 

tain  questions  regarding  ancient  musical  scales  and  nota- 
tion, which  perplex  the  ablest  critics. 

In  music,  as  in  all  the  arts,  a  consecutive  historical  dis- 
cussion of  the  subject  must  begin  with  the  Greeks.  That 
the  Greeks,  being  of  Indo-European  stock,  were  indebted  to 
the  East  for  the  rudiments  of  their  music  is  beyond  ques- 
tion. But  it  was  a  surpassing  excellence  of  the  facile  and 
flexible  Greek  mind  that  it  transformed  and  amplified  what- 
ever it  inherited  or  acquired.  In  Greece  music  was  exalted, 
from  the  earliest  legendary  era,  from  the  condition  of  a 
mere  pastime,  the  accompaniment  of  sensuous  indolence,  to 
rank  with  poetry  and  the  highest  aspirations  of  philosophy 
Of  this  the  beautiful  legends  of  Apollo  Citharaedus,  of 
Apollo  and  Marsyas,  of  Amphion,  Arion,  Bacchus,  Orpheus 
and  the  Sirens,  the  latter  the  originals  of  the  Melusine 
and  Loreley  of  Teutonic  mythology,  are  ample  proof ;  and 
still  more  the  fact  that  instruction  in  music  from  the  ear- 
liest times  was  made  a  necessary  part  of  the  education  of 
the  young,  becoming  thus  inseparable  to  the  Greek  from 
the  experiences  of  daily  life  and  the  never-failing  inspira- 
tion to  martial  and  religious  fervor. 

Yet  music  among  the  Greeks ,  so  far  as  we  can  discover, 
never  attained  to  the  dignity  of  an  independent  art,  but  was 
uniformly  associated  with  the  choral  dances,  with  choral 
declamation  in  Greek  tragedy,  or  with  poetical  recitation 
and  rhapsodizing,  and  as  an  accompaniment  only,  having 
no  significance  as  an  art  outside  of  these.  For  composition 
in  pure  tone  they  seem  to  have  been  deficient  in  faculty  or 
interest,  though  it  is  not  safe  to  judge  by  the  fact  merely 
that  no  specimens  remain  to  us.  The  rhapsodizing  con- 
sisted in  the  recitation  of  epic  or  lyric  poems,  in  a  monoto- 
nous chant  of  rising  and  falling  tones.  The  accompany- 
ing music  was  of  the  kind  called  accented — i.  e.,  note  against 
syllable — which  forbade  the  carrying  of  a  single  tone  over 
several  syllables.  Such  enchaining  of  notes  to  syllables  was 
destructive  to  the  working  out  of  melodic  ideas  in  tone  to 
their  full  extent,  and  yet  that  melodic  form  existed  to  some 
degree  seems  a  necessary  inference  from  the  variety  of 
stringed  and  wind  instruments  in  use.  Prof.  Neumann,  in 
his  History  of  Music,  gives  an  ode  of  Pindar  set  to  ac- 
cented music,  the  genuineness  of  which  is  vouched  for  by 
Prof.  Bockh.  But  the  question  must  remain  largely  specu- 
lative. 

The  Eomans  borrowed  their  music,  as  they  did  their  phi- 


The  Evolution  of  Music.  389 

losophy,  from  the  Greeks,  adding  nothing  of  consequence  to 
existing  forms  or  to  musical  theory,  though  they  advanced 
somewhat  the  development  of  melodic  form.  The  tempera- 
ment of  the  Eomans  was  uncongenial  to  art-sentiment,  and 
such  as  they  possessed  was  overshadowed  by  the  stronger  mo- 
tives of  worldly  prudence  and  aggressive  conquest.  We  pass 
over  several  centuries  before  there  emerges  a  school  of  music 
informed  with  true  musical  ideas  and  based  upon  a  correct 
and  satisfactory  tonality.  We  remark,  however,  that  Boe- 
thius,  the  celebrated  author  of  the  Consolations  of  Philoso- 
phy, published  his  Institutions  of  Music,  in  which  he  showed 
a  lamentable  ignorance  of  the  basis  of  Greek  musical  theory 
and  scales,  but  whose  misleading  text-book  was  adopted  as 
an  authority  in  the  English  universities,  and  whose  funda- 
mental errors  were  thus  perpetuated  for  centuries. 

Two  distinguished  names  appear  during  the  early  middle 
ages  in  connection  with  ecclesiastical  music — St.  Ambrose, 
Bishop  of  Milan  (A.  D.  384),  and  St.  Gregory,  or  Gregory 
the  Great,  Bishop  of  Kome  (A.  D.  590).  Both  drew  up  rit- 
uals for  the  service  of  the  Church,  known,  respectively,  as 
the  Ambrosian  and  Gregorian,  or  "  Milan  "  and  "  Roman." 
Ambrose  is  said  to  have  introduced  the  practice  of  antipho- 
nal  singing,  but  good  authorities  deny  that  the  musical 
forms  and  systems  of  notation  called  Ambrosian  and  Gre- 
gorian are  to  be  ascribed  to  them,  and  assert  that  these  ap- 
peared long  after.  None  of  the  so-called  Ambrosian  music 
now  exists,  though  it  seems  certain  that  it  was  founded  upon 
the  Greek  system.  The  tones  called  Gregorian  are  still 
familiar  to  us  in  Catholic  and  Episcopal  services.  If  not 
the  invention  of  Gregory,  they  are  still  of  a  remote  age 
which  can  not  be  definitely  fixed.  There  was  this  differ- 
ence (of  importance  to  the  future  of  musical  development) 
between  the  two  systems :  In  the  Ambrosian  the  music  was 
accented,  as  among  the  Greeks — a  note  against  each  sylla- 
ble. In  the  Gregorian  a  series  of  notes  might  be  carried 
against  one  syllable.  This  so  far  relieved  music  from  its 
bondage  to  the  text,  and  this  partial  flexibility  invited  fur- 
ther experiment  in  free  melodic  invention. 

The  extreme  of  ugliness  in  music  was  reached  in  the  sub- 
sequent organum,  or  system  of  harmony,  of  Hucbald.  This 
writer  allowed  progression  in  consecutive  fifths,  and  asserted 
it  to  be  a  fundamental  law  of  harmony.  Musicians  will  ap- 
preciate the  barbarity  of  this.  It  was  so  offensive  even  to 
the  musically  educated  of  his  own  time  that  one  writer  re- 


390  The  Evolution  of  Music. 

marks  that  Hucbald's  organum  was  probably  intended  as  a 
"  penance  for  the  ear,"  inasmuch  as  at  this  period  all  sen- 
suous beauty,  and  therefore  all  musical  euphony,  was  sup- 
posed to  be  a  device  of  the  evil  one. 

With  the  establishment  of  the  ecclesiastical  modes  we 
reach  the  close  of  our  first  period  in  the  evolution  of  music, 
reaching  from  the  unknown  beginnings  of  music  to  about 
the  twelfth  century.  During  this  period  we  find  the  tonal 
art  confined  to  successions  of  single  notes,  with  partly  de- 
veloped melodic  form,  subordinated  as  an  accompaniment 
for  the  voice  in  recitation,  or  in  the  choral  odes,  or  in  the 
hymnology  of  the  early  Christians,  or  the  rituals  of  the 
Church.  Music  was  now  to  enter  upon  a  new  era  and 
achieve  independence  in  both  form  and  sentiment,  and  be- 
come an  art  the  most  completely  expressive  of  the  emotional 
nature.  But  the  advance  was  painfully  slow.  From  the 
distressing  discords  of  Hucbald's  cacophony  to  the  rich  and 
glowing  harmonies  of  a  Beethoven  symphony  was  a  journey 
from  darkness  into  light ;  and  that  the  journey  should  have 
been  made  is  one  of  the  marvels  in  the  history  of  mental 
evolution. 

SECOND  PEEIOD. 
Development  of  Harmony  and  Polyphony. 

The  renovation  of  music  came  from  the  peoples  of 
northern  Europe.  While  ecclesiastics  were  droning  their 
ancient  and  monotonous  chants,  the  former,  exercising  an 
unrestrained  and  natural  tendency  to  free  melodic  and  har- 
monic expression,  had  developed  the  volk-songs,  or  people's 
songs.  These,  being  sung  in  parts  for  different  voices,  and 
hence  called  also  part  songs,  were  the  fruitful  origin  of  all 
the  subsequent  wonderful  acquisitions  in  harmonic  and 
polyphonic  composition.  These  songs,  in  their  earliest 
form,  consisted  of  a  melody,  with  accompaniment  by  other 
voices.  The  influence  of  the  ecclesiastical  modes  is  found 
in  many,  but  by  far  the  larger  part  are  based  upon  a  musical 
scale  closely  allied  to  the  modern  system,  such  as  is  naturally 
followed  by  the  voice  in  free  singing.  So  devotedly  attached 
were  the  common  people  to  their  volk-songs  that,  in  order 
to  increase  attendance  upon  church  services,  hymns  were 
adapted  to  volk-song  music.  The  primitive  harmonic  forms 
to  which  this  music  gave  rise  were  the  faux  bourdon,  or 
falso-bordone — i.  e.,  the  holding  of  a  single  note  in  the  bass, 


The  Evolution  of  Music.  391 

a  droning,  like  that  of  a  bagpipe,  with  the  performance  of 
other  parts  in  the  upper  scale ;  and  the  descant,  or  discan- 
tus  (dis-cantus,  something  apart  from  the  song),  in  which 
the  parts  which  accompanied  the  principal  melody  were  ex- 
temporized, though  according  to  fixed  rules.  The  leading 
subject,  or  motive,  thus  became  known,  and  is  still  known 
in  polyphonic  composition,  as  the  "  cantus  firmus,"  and  was 
also  styled  the  "  tenor,"  from  the  Latin  "  teneo,"  to  hold, 
since  it  was  usually  taken  by  the  upper  voice.  The  Eng- 
lish "plain  song"  has  the  same  signification.  Following 
closely  the  above  forms,  and  partly  contemporary  with  them, 
were  the  canons  and  rounds,  or  catches.  The  latter  were 
of  more  formal  and  technical  construction,  but  were  an  ad- 
vance, harmonically,  upon  the  former,  in  that  there  was  a 
simultaneous  progression  of  all  the  parts,  the  theme  being 
taken  up  successively  by  different  voices.  This  was  the 
germ  of  the  immensely  varied  and  differentiated  music  of 
the  following  centuries,  for  these  led  directly  to  the  inven- 
tion of  counterpoint  and  fugue,  through  which  the  utmost 
possibilities  in  music  were  finally  demonstrated  and  practi- 
cally applied.  Counterpoint,  single  and  double,  was  direct- 
ly an  outcome  of  the  discantus,  the  progression  of  the  ac- 
companying voices  being  committed  to  notation,  instead  of 
being  left  to  uncertain  extemporization.  As  counterpoint 
was  born  of  the  descant  and  motet,  so  fugue  was  born  of 
canon  and  counterpoint.  A  fugue,  as  the  word  fuga,  its 
Latin  original,  implies,  is,  as  it  were,  a  flying  of  the  different 
subjects  or  themes  after  each  other ;  these,  known  as  sub- 
ject, counter-subject,  return,  etc.,  being  taken  up  in  succes- 
sion in  the  different  parts  and  woven  into  an  elaborate  poly- 
phonic movement,  but  subordinate  to  correct  harmonic  pro- 
gression and  interdependence.  The  fugue  is  the  most 
highly  evolved  and  complex  form  which  music  has  attained 
or  can  attain,  and  is  the  final  stage  of  polyphonic  differen- 
tiation, though  not  final  in  what  constitutes  the  highest  and 
truest  function  of  music — viz.,  artistic,  melodic,  and  har- 
monic ideas,  expressive  of  a  well-defined  musical  thought, 
such  as  are  characteristic  of  what  we  here  call  the  third  pe- 
riod— that  of  the  melodic-polyphonic  school. 

In  compositions  of  this  second  period  England  took  a 
leading  part,  for  the  earliest  vocal  part  composition  yet 
discovered  is  the  celebrated  "  Sumer  is  icumen  in,"  for  six 
voices,  and  assigned  to  the  early  part  of  the  thirteenth  cent- 
ury. John  of  Dunstable  (about  1460)  was  one  of  many  who 


392  The  Evolution  of  Music. 

wrought  in  this  school.  But  the  precedence,  if  such  it  really 
was,  passed  in  the  fifteenth  century  from  England  to  the 
Netherlands.  In  the  history  of  its  subsequent  development 
we  find,  as  in  the  decadence  of  Greek  music,  that  sponta- 
neity of  idea  and  expression  were  gradually  sacrificed  to  in- 
tricacy of  form,  artificiality,  and  ingenious  device,  though 
we  must  allow  that,  in  the  long  run,  this  artificial  devising 
was  prolific  in  resources  for  later  music.  We  have  space 
merely  to  mention  the  names  of  some  of  the  leaders  of  the 
Netherland  and  Gallo-Belgic  school:  Franco  of  Cologne, 
Dufay,  Okeghem,  Josquin  des  Pres,  Adrian  Willaert,  Tinc- 
toris,  Orlandus  Lassus,  Goudimel.  But  it  must  be  remem- 
bered that  these  were  the  Bachs  and  Beethovens  of  their 
time,  and  what  Browning  calls  their  "  mountainous  fugues  " 
were  the  mines  from  which  later  musical  science  and  art 
have  extracted  material  wherewith  to  build  the  grand  tone 
creations  of  our  own  day.  Many  of  these  masters,  attract- 
ed by  the  great  importance  given  to  music  in  the  service 
of  the  Catholic  Church,  wrought  mostly  in  Italy.  The  first 
musical  conservatory  in  Naples  was  founded  by  Tinctoris, 
and  in  Venice  by  Willaert.  Lassus  was  a  most  prolific  com- 
poser, a  writer  of  independent  and  creative  faculty,  and  not 
a  few  of  his  works  hold  their  place  in  the  estimation  of  the 
musical  world  at  the  present  day. 

Something,  however,  more  than  the  mere  mention  of  a 
name  is  due  to  the  work  and  genius  of  the  great  Palestrina 
(1528-1594).  We  have  noted  above  that  it  became  a  common 
practice  for  the  composers  of  church  music  to  take  for  the 
principal  theme  of  their  masses  some  well-known  popular 
melody.  So  general  was  this  practice  that  their  composi- 
tions became  known  by  the  name  of  the  song  thus  adapted, 
such  as  the  mass  of  the  "  Armed  Man,"  of  the  "  Lament  of 
the  Rose,"  etc.  Ecclesiastical  music  lost  the  worthiness  of  its 
religious  office  not  only  by  this  intrusion  of  secular  song, 
but  also  by  the  invention  of  meaningless  and  florid  fiorituri, 
which  completely  obscured  the  text  of  the  service.  A  power- 
ful opposition  was  provoked  among  the  clergy.  For  not  so 
valid  a  reason,  Pope  John  XXII,  in  1322,  had  objected 
strenuously  to  the  use  of  counterpoint,  the  harmonies  of 
thirds  and  sixths  were  declared  too  "  voluptuous,"  and  the 
Ionian  mode  (our  scale  of  C  major)  was  stigmatized  as  "  las- 
civious." At  the  Council  of  Trent  the  prevailing  style  was 
condemned  without  reserve.  Not  long  before  this,  Pales- 
trina's  music  had  become  prominent,  and  to  him  the  Coun- 


The  Evolution  of  Music.  393 

cil  assigned  the  duty  of  preparing  a  new,  more  simple,  and 
reverential  service.  This  he  accomplished  to  the  satisfaction 
of  church  dignitaries  and  of  art  as  well — perhaps  the  only 
instance  on  record  where  music  was  successfully  composed 
to  order.  His  Missa  Papse  Marcelli,  or  Mass  of  the  Pope 
Marcellus,  his  patron,  was  hailed  with  delight,  and  con- 
formity to  its  style  was  made  imperative  upon  all  church 
composers.  Palestrina  excels  in  uniting  great  effectiveness, 
breadth,  and  grace  of  harmony  to  noble  yet  simple  melodic 
thought.  Character  and  individuality,  which  had  been  lost 
in  the  multiplicity  of  contrapuntal  figures,  were  restored. 
Much  of  his  music  rises  to  a  grandeur  not  surpassed  by  that 
of  any  subsequent  composer,  and  the  "  mode  Palestrina  "  has 
become  established  as  a  distinct  form  of  musical  art. 

For  reasons  not  wholly  discoverable,  but  dependent  upon 
fluctuations  in  the  art  -  temperament  of  different  periods 
among  different  nations,  polyphonic  writing  ceased  almost 
wholly  in  Italy,  and  Germany  succeeded  to,  and  has  never 
since  lost,  that  pre-eminence  in  harmonic  invention  and 
profound  musical  thought  and  culture  which  makes  her 
to-day  first  in  the  massive  forms  of  symphony  and  ora- 
torio. "We  should  rather  say  that  it  returned  to  the  North, 
since  it  had  been  the  Netherland  school  which  had  so  long 
held  sway  in  Italy.  In  entering  upon  this  new  phase  of 
German  art,  we  enter  upon  a  period  which  was  perfected  on 
its  polyphonic  side  in  Bach  and  Handel  and  their  illustrious 
successors. 

Not  only  during  this  second  period  was  music  enlarged 
by  progress  in  harmonic  and  melodic  invention,  through  the 
working  out  of  counterpoint  and  fugue  and  the  allied  forms 
of  the  glee  and  madrigal,  but  much  more  by  the  new  meth- 
ods of  representation  which  were  found  for  it  in  the  Trou- 
badour music,  in  oratorio,  and  in  opera.  The  era  of  the 
Troubadour,  and  his  brother  of  northern  France,  the  Trou- 
vere,  forms  a  distinct  period  in  musical  art.  The  influence 
of  their  compositions  differs  from  that  of  the  volk-song. 
The  latter  was  a  spontaneous  emanation  from  the  popular 
instinct;  the  former,  though  free  in  its  development,  yet 
held  closely  to  the  requisites  of  form,  even  though  wholly 
dedicated  to  the  highly  emotional  sentiments  of  love,  honor, 
and  arms,  and  to  the  winning  of  the  applause  of  the  fairest 
in  courtly  contests,  in  which  the  universe  of  nature  and  the 
imagination  was  ransacked  and  exhausted  for  metaphors 


394  The  Evolution  of  Music. 

and  conceits.  Troubadour  music,  as  it  was  thus  exclusive 
and  personal,  decayed  with  the  rise  of  the  feudal  system. 
The  nobility  and  chivalry  withdrew  to  their  castles  in  iso- 
lated pride.  Local  and  petty  warfares  and  jealousies  were 
fatal  to  art  culture,  and  the  protection  and  furtherance  of 
musical  art  passed  from  the  aristocracy  to  the  free  cities. 
For  the  permanence  of  art  there  must  exist  a  well-organized 
society  to  foster  and  maintain  art-sentiment.  What  the  no- 
bility lost,  the  burghers  of  the  free  cities  secured.  In  the 
North  the  Troubadours  had  their  brethren  of  song  and 
poetry  in  the  Minnesingers,  the  greatest  names  among  whom 
were  Wilhelm  Stade,  Wolfram  von  Eschenbach,  and  Wal- 
ther  von  der  Vogelweide.  Both  were  indebted  to  the  epoch 
of  the  tumultuous  influences  of  the  Crusades  for  their  in- 
centive, and  to  contact  with  Oriental  poetry  and  fancy.  But 
here  once  more  spontaneity  yielded  to  formalism.  The 
Minnesingers  gave  place  to  the  Meistersingers,  and  elo- 
quence was  lost  in  grammar.  Under  the  pedantic  technics 
of  the  schools  of  the  Meistersingers  free  art  was  stifled.  The 
Meistersinger  was  he  who  could  compose  new  music  to  his 
own  new  poem.  Should  he  either  borrow  or  imitate,  he 
was  a  "tone  thief,"  and  was  banished  in  disgrace  at  the 
public  competitions  were  he  "outsung  and  outdone"  by 
the  commission  of  any  one  of  the  manifold  sins  against 
poetry  and  composition  which  the  masters  had  invented. 

Oratorio  (or  the  germ  of  oratorio)  dates  from  the  sixteenth 
century.  In  1556  San  Filippo  Neri  engaged  a  distinguished 
musician  of  his  time,  Animuccia,  to  write  short  hymns  to  be 
performed  at  intervals  during  the  discourses  which  Neri  was 
accustomed  to  deliver  in  the  oratory  of  his  church. .  Hence 
the  name  oratorio.  The  hymns,  in  course  of  time,  were 
lengthened,  and  the  discourse  itself  was  replaced  by  passages 
of  music,  or  the  words  of  the  discourse  were  themselves  adapt- 
ed to  music,  resulting  in  the  form  of  the  oratorio  substan- 
tially as  we  have  it  now.  Concurrently  with  the  use  of  sa- 
cred oratorio  was  that  of  dramatic  oratorio,  in  which,  as  in 
our  modern  opera,  interest  is  centered  upon  dramatic  action, 
and  music  and  action  were  accompanied  with  scenery  and 
stage  effects.  This  was  simply  setting  the  older  miracle  and 
mystery  plays  to  music.  The  first  of  its  class  was  Cavalieri's 
composition,  the  Eepresentation  of  the  Soul  and  the  Body 
(1600).  Dramatic  oratorio  passed  ultimately  into  the  opera 
seria.  The  perfection  in  oratorio  was  due  to  Germany.  It 
was  more  in  sympathy  with  German  seriousness,  and  their 


The  Evolution  of  Music.  395 

advancing  school  of  polyphonic  composition  was  alone  fitted 
to  highly  develop  that  form  of  art.  The  Protestant  spirit 
gave  it  increasing  influence  and  effect,  and  its  grandest  re- 
sults were  achieved  in  the  Passion  Music  of  Bach  and  the 
incomparable  works  of  HandeL 

Vincenzo  Galilei,  at  the  beginning  of  the  seventeenth  cent- 
ury, was  one  of  a  band  of  nobles  and  gentry  who  devised  for 
music-lovers  of  his  day  that  form  of  free  musical  declama- 
tion known  as  the  recitative.  It  was  the  era  of  the  Renais- 
sance, which  extolled  everything  Grecian,  and  the  new  de- 
parture was  an  attempt  at  a  revival  of  the  Greek  practice  of 
rhapsodizing  with  musical  accompaniment.  In  a  line  with 
this  was  Galilei's  endeavor  to  resuscitate  the  ancient  Pytha- 
gorean doctrine  of  the  scales.  It  was  an  attempt  to  media- 
tize between  the  strictly  rhythmical  and  oft-repeated  stanzas 
of  the  volk-song  and  the  cumbersome  phrases  of  contrapun- 
tal and  fugal  music.  Such  was  the  so-called  "  musica  par- 
lante,"  or  spoken  music,  the  direct  precursor  of  modern  op- 
era. Two  operas — The  Combat  of  Apollo  and  the  Serpent, 
and  The  Satyr — were  represented  in  1590.  Caccini  and  Peri 
produced  Daphne  in  about  1594,  and  Eurydice  in  1600.  The 
new  style  was  hailed  with  great  enthusiasm.  It  had  a  strong 
fascination  for  all  classes,  which  the  severe  forms  of  oratorio 
could  not  possess,  and  it  appealed  both  to  the  imagination 
and  to  history  and  personal  experience  as  well.  It  was  great- 
ly advanced  by  Monteverde,  who  produced  his  Arianna  and 
Orpheus  in  1607-1608.  Monteverde  anticipated  Gluck  and 
Wagner  in  his  theory  that  musical  form  should  yield  to  text- 
ual expression,  and  not  be  allowed  to  disfigure  it  with  vocal 
gymnastics.  TVith  the  recitative  came  to  be  interspersed  in 
time  regular  melodic  subjects,  corresponding  to  the  arias  of 
our  modem  opera.  Cardinal  Mazarin  introduced  the  new 
music  into  France,  where,  in  the  seventeenth  century,  Lully 
gave  it  the  permanent  form  of  the  French  lyrical  drama. 
Schutz  furthered  its  adoption  into  Germany.  In  England, 
Purcell  was  the  most  prolific  composer  of  his  time.  In  Italy, 
Scarlatti  (1659-1725)  put  forth  no  less  than  one  hundred 
and  fifteen  operas  and  invented  the  overture.  Furthermore, 
the  adoption  of  the  recitative  form  in  shorter  compositions 
like  the  cantata  by  Carissimi  and  Stradella  gave  wide  preva- 
lence to  the  new  idea. 

Gluck,  as  is  well  known,  labored  to  restore  opera  to  its 
original  significance,  as  the  appropriate  exponent,  in  music, 


396  The  Evolution  of  Music. 

of  worthy  dramatic  subjects,  which  with  him  were  wholly 
classical,  and  he  attempted  to  do  this  by  dispensing  with  all 
meretricious  embellishments.  The  valuable  results  of  his 
work  were  largely  obscured  by  Eossini  and  his  successors, 
Donizetti,  Bellini,  Mercadante,  and  others,  who  aimed  at 
florid  vocalization,  and  overwhelmed,  for  a  considerable  pe- 
riod, the  true  aims  of  the  operatic  drama,  though  these  were 
nobly  sustained  by  the  operas  of  Weber  and  in  Beethoven's 
Fidelio.  Against  this  flimsy  school  Wagner  raised  the  stand- 
ard of  revolt.  Upon  the  epics  of  German  mythology,  and 
by  uniting,  as  accessories,  all  the  arts  to  aid  in  representa- 
tion, and  by  eschewing  completely  the  trivialities  of  the  Ital- 
ian school,  he  has  enriched  the  musical  drama  with  creations 
of  extraordinary  range  and  beauty.  Whether,  indeed,  Wag- 
ner's peculiar  theory  of  continuous  dramatic  recitation,  and 
the  doing  away  with  all  sustained  and  fully  developed  me- 
lodic and  choral  forms,  as  illustrated  in  his  later  works,  will 
command  the  assent  of  the  future  of  musical  art,  is  a  ques- 
tion which  sharply  divides  present  opinion,  and  which  it  is 
not  pertinent  here  to  discuss. 

THIRD  PERIOD. 
The  Melodic- Polyphonic  School 

Bach  and  Handel  open  the  third  period  in  the  history  of 
the  evolution  of  music.  Bearing  in  mind  our  law  of  dif- 
ferentiation, of  development  by  specialization — first  of  the 
arts  from  each  other,  giving  to  each  an  independent  life 
and  history,  and  then  the  specializations  in  each  art — we 
have  seen  that  in  Greece  music  was  subservient  to  recita- 
tion and  the  choral  dances,  and  its  form  was  melodic  and 
not  harmonic,  so  far  as  we  can  judge.  Such  was  its  history 
until  the  eleventh  or  twelfth  century,  when  harmony  grew 
up  under  the  inspiration  of  the  free  harmonic  forms  of  the 
people's  songs ;  counterpoint  and  fugue  succeeded.  The  re- 
ligious and  dramatic  oratorio  and  the  varied  forms  of  opera 
materially  enlarged  the  possibilities  of  music.  At  the  be- 
ginning of  the  eighteenth  century  these  forms  were  fully 
developed,  and  upon  the  labors  of  all  previous  composers 
who  had  wrought  in  these  various  forms  the  great  compos- 
ers of  that  century  entered.  Our  third  period  shows  the 
application  of  these  forms,  under  the  genius  of  masters  in 
the  art,  to  the  highest  artistic  and  emotional  expression  and 


The  Evolution  of  Music.  397 

sentiment,  which  had  themselves  been  evolved  by  advance 
in  civilization,  and  thereby  to  more  just  aesthetic  concep- 
tions. In  Bach  and  Handel  were  focused  whatever  past 
ages  had  achieved  for  music  culture,  and  from  them  the 
future  of  music  received  its  grand  impulse  toward  what  it 
has  since  attained.  They  stand  like  two  pillars  at  the  ves- 
tibule of  the  temple  of  modern  musical  history.  Indebted 
for  much  to  their  predecessors  already  mentioned,  and  also 
to  the  great  organists  Buxtehude,  Pachelbel,  Paumann,  and 
others,  yet,  even  as  Shakespeare  wrought  upon  history,  nar- 
rative, and  legend,  and  as  Milton,  with  all  his  fervor  of 
poetic  instinct,  drew  from  the  classics  his  most  exalted 
imagery,  so  these  masters  so  concentrated  and  amplified 
what  they  received  that  their  work  bears  the  clearest  im- 
press of  individuality. 

In  what  we  have  called  the  melodic-polyphonic  period 
high  and  worthy  melodic  conceptions  were  united  with, 
and  enforced  by,  rich  and  ample  harmonic  forms,  through 
which  they  were  intensified  and  illustrated.  For  melody  is, 
and  must  ever  be,  the  soul  of  music.  It  is  what  form  is  to 
the  statue  and  painting,  and  proportion  in  architecture,  or 
thought  in  poetry  and  oratory.  With  Handel  was  born  the 
highest  form  yet  attained  of  dramatic  melody  and  choral 
effects.  Bach  was  the  musician's  composer.  His  "Well-tem- 
pered Clavichord  has  been  said  to  be  to  the  musician  what  the 
breviary  is  to  the  priest.  With  Haydn  appears  what  may  be 
called  the  melodic-artistic  school — i.  e.,  melody  developed  in 
pure  tone  form,  though  he  was  not  the  equal  of  Handel  in 
breadth  of  style.  But  in  finished  melodic  and  in  melodic- 
harmonic  works  Haydn  marks  an  advance.  He  is  further- 
more entitled  to  the  lasting  credit  of  having  established  for 
all  subsequent  time  the  symphonic  form,  as  we  now  have  it, 
and  thus  m  having  delivered  orchestral  music  from  the  bond- 
age of  mechanical  fugal  treatment,  and  in  having  thus  made 
possible  the  achievements  of  subsequent  composers.  With 
Mozart  the  pure  melodic  art  attained  its  most  perfect  and 
finished  exposition.  Mozart  united  to  Haydn's  grace  of  form 
the  highest  musical  thought,  and  thereby  surpassed  the  lat- 
ter's  too  formal  composition.  Von  Weber  founded  the  ro- 
mantic school,  and  finally  in  Beethoven  the  melodic-har- 
monic style  received  its  complete  development.  Beethoven 
satisfies  all  the  requisites  of  the  most  consummate  musical 
art — i.  e.,  simplicity  of  idea,  unity  in  conception,  and  extra- 
ordinary power  of  tonal  development  and  harmonic  coloring. 


398  The  Evolution  of  Music. 

Beethoven  closed  the  direct  line  of  evolution  of  the  new 
school — in  other  words,  we  can  clearly  trace  the  rise  of  this 
school  in  Bach  and  Handel,  and  its  growth  up  to  the  Beet- 
hoven period,  through  well-marked  phases.  Since  Beet- 
hoven's time  music  has  become,  as  we  might  say,  diffracted, 
and  specialized  into  conflicting  theories  and  modes. 

Mendelssohn  and  Schumann  were  contemporary  —  but 
Mendelssohn,  with  his  adherence  to  correctness  in  form  and 
harmonic  rules,  is  not  for  a  moment  to  be  placed  in  the 
same  school  of  composers  who  follow  Schumann's  subjective 
romantic  style.  Later  compositions  show,  with  a  few  notable 
exceptions — such  as  those  of  Chopin,  Rubinstein,  and  Brahms 
— a  tendency  to  break  loose  from  all  authority  of  form  and 
indulge  in  a  vague  idealism  which  bears  no  good  promise 
for  a  revival  of  sustained  melodic-harmonic  compositions,  to 
which  music  must,  however,  return  if  it  is  to  accomplish 
any  definite  progress.  As  there  has  arisen  in  these  later 
days,  in  the  art  of  painting,  the  school  of  "  impressionists  " 
who  would  accomplish  their  effects  by  contrasts  of  strong 
combinations  in  color,  regardless,  to  a  great  extent,  of  correct 
drawing,  so  many  later  composers  seek  to  produce  unity  of 
effect  by  strongly  contrasted  masses  of  tone  with  slight  re- 
gard for  the  necessity  of  grouping  these  around  some  central 
and  worthy  musical  thought.  As  Prof.  Macfarren  has  just- 
ly said,  "  The  development  of  plan  or  design  in  musical 
composition  has  been  the  fruition  of  the  last  two  centu- 
ries, and,  in  spite  of  all  dispute  as  to  its  paramount  necessity, 
hope  points  to  it  as  the  everlasting  standard  of  genuineness 
in  art." 

One  reason  for  the  divergence  of  schools  of  music  since 
the  Beethoven  period  may  be  found  in  the  fact  of  the  in- 
fluence of  his  wonderful  personality,  working  just  at  the 
time  when  there  was  a  universal  ferment  in  literature  and 
art,  led  by  Goethe  and  Schiller  in  Germany,  and  by  the 
Romanticists,  typified  by  Hugo  and  Gautier,  in  France. 
Beethoven's  great  art-forms  thrown  into  the  midst  of  this 
new  enthusiasm  were  prolific  in  diversity,  and  the  last  and 
greatest  result  of  this  movement  was  Richard  "Wagner,  who 
is  a  direct  consequence  of  the  working  of  the  musical  spirit 
of  the  age. 

The  history  of  the  invention  of  musical  notation,  which 
is  the  sign-language  of  music,  clearly  demonstrates  the 
operation  of  the  evolutionary  law  of  differentiation.  It 


The  Evolution  of  Music.  399 

advances  from  rude  attempts  to  a  complete  system,  but 
through  an  exceedingly  slow  development.  From  what  we 
can  learn  of  the  notation  of  Greek  music,  and  that  of  the 
early  middle  ages,  it  was  alphabetical — namely,  letters  above 
the  words  indicated  the  tone  or  intonation.  Musical  critics 
are  now  generally  agreed  that  the  invention  of  line  and 
space  notation  is  not  to  be  ascribed,  as  it  had  uniformly 
been,  to  Guido  of  Arezzo.  Hucbald,  mentioned  above,  was 
likewise  the  originator  of  a  peculiar  space  notation.  In  the 
tenth  century  we  meet  for  the  first  time  the  beginning  of 
line  notation — one  line  only — the  position  of  the  marks 
relatively  to  the  line  indicating  the  tone  to  be  taken.  In 
the  eleventh  century  three  more  lines  were  added,  and 
through  various  intermediate  steps,  among  which  was  the 
use  of  colored  lines  to  indicate  variety  of  tone,  was  wrought 
out  the  notation  invented  or  at  least  perfected  by  Franco, 
of  Cologne,  which  was  the  immediate  precursor  of  our  mod- 
ern system.  Not  until  his  day  do  we  find  any  indication  of 
the  respective  length  of  notes,  or  division  into  bars.  Such 
had  not  really  been  necessary.  Great  latitude  was  allowed  in 
the  declamatory  recitation  of  music,  and  not  much  more  was 
needed  than  indication  simply  for  the  rising  and  falling  of 
the  voice ;  but  with  the  advent  of  part-singing  and  the  move- 
ment together  of  several  voices,  length  of  tone  had  to  be 
clearly  marked.  In  all  this  the  law  of  evolution  was  clearly 
apparent,  from  alphabet  to  space-writing,  from  space-  to 
line-writing,  and  this  progressed  contemporaneously  with 
the  immense  extension  of  the  polyphonic  school  of  compo- 
sition. 

Those  who  will  compare  a  modern  fugue  with  the  simple 
note-succession  of  Greek  and  middle-age  music  can  not  fail 
to  be  impressed  with  the  wonderful  demonstration  which 
our  law  of  evolution  receives  in  the  practically  unlimited 
number  of  tone  combinations  of  which  music  has  been 
shown  to  be  susceptible,  and  which,  in  combination  with 
fertility  of  melodic  invention,  has  developed  musical  art  to 
its  present  results.  Concurrently  with  this  increasing  com- 
plexity in  harmony,  notation,  and  instrumentation  has  been 
the  distinct  operation  of  the  correlative  law  of  Integration ; 
that  principle  of  evolution  whereby  cosmic,  biological,  soci- 
ological, and  art  growth  tend  to  a  unity  in  variety,  and  to 
structural  completeness.  Compare  the  unrelated  tone  suc- 
cessions of  ancient  and  mediaeval  music,  having  in  them- 
selves no  art  significance,  with  the  modern  oratorio  or  sym- 


400  The  Evolution  of  Music. 

phony,  with  their  centrality  of  idea,  though  demanding  all 
the  resources  of  musical  invention  for  their  complete  expo- 
sition. A  modern  musical  composition  is  comparable  to  an 
organism — in  fact,  is  such.  The  principle  underlying  the 
growth  of  an  organism  is  interdependence  of  essential  parts 
to  the  life  of  the  whole.  Thus  elaborate  compositions  de- 
mand such  a  close  relation  in  the  concerted  movement  of 
different  parts  that  no  one  part  can  be  taken  away  without 
destroying  the  unity  of  presentation ;  and  the  composer  of 
highest  merit  is  he  who  can  bring  to  his  service  the  most 
varied  resources,  and  yet  subordinate  the  whole  to  the  work- 
ing out  of  his  subject  without  giving  undue  prominence  to 
special  effects,  a  conclusion  to  which  we  were  previously  led 
from  other  considerations. 

If  music  is  not  the  first  of  the  arts,  it  is  yet "  primus  inter 
pares."  It  is  pre-eminently  the  emotional  art,  and  yet,  for 
that  reason,  more  likely  to  be  misrepresented  in  its  true 
function  by  a  weak  sentimentalism.  All  true  lovers  of 
music  should  rejoice  that  music  and  musical  criticism  are 
coming  to  be  placed  upon  the  same  basis  of  legitimate, 
rational,  and  philosophical  study  with  the  other  arts ;  that 
it  is  steadily  rising  in  the  appreciation  of  the  public  as  an 
art,  not  as  an  amusement ;  and  they  should  be  thankful  for 
that  intellectual  and  emotional  expansion  of  our  later  civili- 
zation which  will  enable  us  more  and  more  to  reap  the  full 
benefit  of  the  highest  modern  musical  culture. 


The  Evolution  of  Music.  401 


ABSTRACT  OF  THE   DISCUSSION. 

MB.  LAWRENCE  E.  STERNER: 

To  music  can  not  be  attributed  exclusively  either  a  sensuous  or  a 
spiritual  origin.  Sensuous  and  spiritual  music  are  distinct  and  have 
separate  histories.  Sensuous  music  has  its  embryo  and  development 
in  the  seed-sensuous ;  spiritual  music  in  the  seed-spiritual. 

The  development  of  instrumental  music  has  been  divided  into  the 
drum  stage  (which  includes  all  percussion  instruments),  the  pipe  stage 
(which  includes  all  wind  instruments),  and  the  lyre  stage  (which  in- 
cludes all  string  instruments).  These  correspond  to  the  theological, 
metaphysical,  and  positive  stages  of  the  Comtist,  the  stone,  bronze, 
and  iron  ages  of  the  archaeologist.  The  order  of  development  has 
never  varied.  The  drum  is  the  only  musical  instrument  found  alone. 
Wherever  the  pipe  is  in  use  there  also  is  the  drum ;  wherever  string 
instruments  are  found  there  also  will  be  found  wind  and  percussion 
instruments. 

That  Sebastian  Bach  (whose  works  have  been  termed  "  the  musi- 
cian's Bible ")  was  the  founder  of  the  "  Well-tempered  Clavichord," 
which  is  our  present  system  of  scales  (since  proved,  so  far  as  we  may 
know,  to  be  scientifically  correct),  is  a  fact  the  weight  of  which  should 
be  fully  impressed  on  all  minds,  as  before  his  time  no  such  scale  was 
known  or  used,  except  in  a  very  unpractical  manner,  and  in  conse- 
quence all  music  was  limited  melodically  and  harmonically. 

Everything  that  was  possible  to  the  ancients  was  accomplished  by 
them.  Their  musical  perception  was  not  so  much  wanting  as  the  ma- 
terial (harmonic  scale)  with  which  to  work. 

Something  of  the  future  of  music  may  be  known  by  retrospection. 
Percussion  and  wind  instruments,  mainly  used  but  two  centuries  past, 
have  gradually  given  place  to  the  delicate  strings,  and  it  is  probable 
that  in  their  more  severe  and  boisterous  forms  they  will  disappear  en- 
tirely and  instruments  of  even  greater  delicacy  than  the  violin  come 
into  use.  As  the  human  heart  and  understanding  mount  to  greater 
sensitiveness  and  culture,  the  soul  seeks,  through  the  arts,  to  express 
itself  with  greater  delicacy  and  refinement. 

MR.  AUGUST  WALTHER,  JR.: 

I  doubt  whether  there  is  any  other  city  in  the  world  where  so  much 
money  is  spent  on  musical  instruction  as  in  New  York.  Elevating  as 


402  The  Evolution  of  Music. 

this"  may  seem— for  what  is  more  elevating  to  the  progressive  mind 
than  a  tangible  proof  of  the  interest  taken  in  the  study  and  advance- 
ment of  art  ? — a  closer  scrutiny  of  the  present  state  of  musical  culture 
will  bring  us  face  to  face  with  a  fact  not  very  pleasant  to  contemplate, 
namely,  that  our  musical  education  is  carried  on  in  a  very  one-sided  and 
superficial  manner,  and  that  the  amount  of  money  spent  on  it  bears  no 
comparison  to  the  results  achieved.  A  correct  and  clear  insight  into 
music  can  be  obtained  only  by  a  correct  and  clear  understanding  of  the 
development  of  music.  This  understanding  obtained,  much  that  seems 
obscure,  even  incomprehensible,  will  become  elucidated.  The  spirit  of 
many  works  which  were  alien  to  us  will  appear  in  a  new,  clear  light ; 
much  that  seemed  insignificant  and  uninteresting  will  become  of  great 
importance.  Unfortunately,  this  side  of  our  musical  education  is  very 
much  neglected,  hence  the  prevalent  ignorance  upon  matters  of  the 
greatest  importance. 

Mr.  Sampson's  exposition  of  the  evolution  of  music  was  excellent 
and  very  interesting,  and  of  infinitely  more  value  to  those  who  wish 
to  understand  something  about  music  than  the  incessant  thumping 
and  screeching  to  which  our  ears  are  treated  daily.  I  regret  that  Mr. 
Sampson  did  not  deliver  a  cycle  of  lectures  on  his  subject — his  one 
lecture  contains  sufficient  material  for  such  a  cycle— for  this  would 
have  enabled  him  to  make  clear  much  that  is  still  obscure  to  the 
minds  of  some  of  his  audience.  Still,  his  effort  must  be  greeted  with 
rejoicing. 

ME.  WILLIAM  POTTS  : 

All  we  may  say  of  the  origin  of  music,  as  of  language,  seems  to  me 
to  be  pure  speculation.  The  growth  of  the  power  of  perceiving  sound 
was  so  gradual  that  we  can  never  get  at  its  origin.  The  perception  of 
sound  still  varies  greatly  in  individuals,  some  perceiving  no  difference 
in  tones  an  octave  apart.  In  the  development  of  the  scale  the  science 
has  been  loaded  with  a  large  amount  of  unnecessary  material,  espe- 
cially so  far  as  vocal  music  is  concerned.  We  are  buried  under  an 
avalanche  of  notation.  Music  is  not  notation,  but  sound  and  the  per- 
ception of  harmonic  sounds.  The  Tonic  Sol  Fa  system  has  for  the 
singer  the  advantage  that  it  indicates  a  single  thing  by  a  single  sign, 
and  does  not  perplex  the  mind  with  unnecessary  complexities  of  no- 
tation. 

MR.  SAMPSON  regretted  that  his  time  had  been  so  limited  that  he 
could  not  even  allude  to  some  of  the  most  important  branches  of  the 
topic,  such  as  the  rise  of  the  German  chorale  and  Protestant  church 
music  and  psalmody,  the  great  English  school  of  composers,  the  pe- 


The  Evolution  of  Music.  403 

culiarities  of  Mohammedan  and  other  Eastern  music,  the  considerable 
results  already  attained  by  American  composers,  and  particularly,  as 
bearing  on  the  general  topic  most  directly,  the  influence  of  tempera- 
ment and  environment  upon  the  development  of  different  national 
types  of  musical  composition. 


LIFE  AS  A  FINE  ART 


BY 

LEWIS  G.  JANES 

AUTHOR  OF  A  STUDY  OF  PRIMITIVE  CHRISTIANITY,  THE  EVOLUTION  OF  MORALS, 
THE  SCOPE  AND  PRINCIPLES  OF  THE  EVOLUTION  PHILOSOPHY,  ETC. 


COLLATERAL  READINGS  SUGGESTED: 

Spencer's  Education,  Data  of  Ethics,  and  Justice ;  Sir  John  Lub- 
bock's  The  Pleasures  of  Life  ;  Hamerton's  The  Intellectual  Life ;  Rus- 
kin's  The  Mystery  of  Life,  in  Sesame  and  Lilies ;  Emerson's  Nature, 
and  Essays ;  Carlyle's  Sartor  Resartus ;  Graham's  The  Creed  of  Sci- 
ence ;  Ferdinand  Papillon's  Nature  and  Life ;  Hinton's  Life  in  Na- 
ture, and  Man  and  his  Dwelling-Place ;  Symonds's  Essays,  Speculative 
and  Suggestive ;  Taine's  Philosophy  of  Art ;  Schurman's  The  Belief 
in  God. 


£ 


/    A 


LIFE  AS  A  FINE  ART.* 

BY  LEWIS  G.  JANES. 

"  The  Art  of  Life— the  greatest  of  all  arts"— THOMAS  CARLYLE. 

"  The  art  of  living  rightly  is  like  all  arts :  the  capacity  only  is 
born  with  us;  it  must  be  learned,  and  practiced  with  incessant  care. — 
GOETHE,  in  Wilhelm  Meister. 

AMOXG  the  gems  of  thought  which  may  be  gathered  by 
diligent  seeking  from  that  wonderful  store-house  of  Hebrew 
tradition,  the  Talmud,  is  this  wise  precept  of  Rabbi  Hillel, 
prophetic  of  the  later  teaching  of  the  New  Testament: 
"Energetically  seize  Life."  ...  "If  we  cling  to  the  letter 
of  holy  writ,  all  morality  will  be  lost.  Whether  anything 
be  written  or  not,  the  life  decides." 

"  The  life  decides,"  reiterates  the  modern  thinker,  the 
philosophical  evolutionist.  The  object  of  life  is  life  itself — 
fullness  of  life,  the  free,  temperate,  and  harmonious  exercise 
of  every  natural  faculty  in  the  service  of  the  Good,  the  True, 
and  the  Beautiful.  This  rule,  made  universal,  should  be  the 
ideal  end  toward  which  all  human  activities  are  directed — 
the  criterion  of  choice  in  our  vocations,  the  mentor  of  our 
bodily  appetites,  the  educator  of  conscience,  the  final  test  of 
the  morality  of  actions.  What  a  paltry  query  is  that, 
whether  life  is  worth  living !  Life  is  infinite  opportunity. 
Its  worth  for  us  depends  largely  on  our  own  volition.  Our 
vision  of  the  universe  is  tinged  by  the  hue  of  our  subjective 
limitations.  What  the  world  is  for  us  depends  upon  what 
we  are  ourselves.  Life  is  never  stale,  flat,  and  unprofitable, 
save  as  it  reflects  the  dullness  of  our  own  torpor  and  our 
neglected  opportunities.  What  interest,  what  zest  there  is 
in  life  for  the  man  who  is  thoroughly  alive — whose  faculties 
are  all  alert  and  active,  striving  for  the  best  possible  attain- 
ments !  How  vastly  suggestive  and  inspiring  is  the  untried 
future  with  its  limitless  outlook !  The  haze  and  shadow  of 
unsearchable  mystery  which  encompass  the  span  of  life  at 
either  end,  and  recede  before  us  as  we  vainly  strive  to  pene- 

*  Delivered  before  the  Ohio  State  University,  at  Columbus,  March  22,  1891 ; 
before  the  Brooklyn  Ethical  Association,  May  24, 1891. 


408  Life  as  a  Fine  Art. 

trate  its  veil,  like  the  mist  on  yon  far  horizon,  near  the 
ocean's  outermost  verge,  crown  the  finite  realm  of  the  seen 
with  a  halo  of  infinite  suggestion,  and  beckon  us  on  to  a 
limitless  voyage  of  discovery. 

Life  is,  indeed,  for  each  individual  largely  what  he  chooses 
to  make  it.  Granting  the  limitations  of  environment,  of 
inheritance,  of  finite  imperfection,  it  is  within  the  power  of 
each  and  every  one  of  us  to  find  in  these  very  limitations  the 
spur  to  noble  endeavor,  the  promise  of  progressive  attain- 
ment, the  hope  for  that  which  at  the  instant  is  far  beyond 
the  reach  of  our  finite  powers.  This  realization  of  life's 
opportunities,  I  say,  is  within  the  reach  of  all :  but  whether 
the  potency  shall  become  achievement ;  whether  in  maturity 
of  years  the  promises  of  earlier  life  shall  find  fulfillment ; 
whether  we  shall  retain  the  hope  and  zest  and  enthusiasm 
of  youth,  depends  mainly  on  the  character  of  our  ideals— on 
the  prevailing  attitude  of  the  individual  soul  toward  life 
and  the  problems  suggested  by  its  daily  experiences.  In 
speaking  of  Life  as  a  Fine  Art,  therefore,  I  aim  to  hold  up 
an  ideal,  not  impossible  of  realization,  of  what  it  should 
be ;  not  merely  to  portray  its  present  actualities,  which  are 
too  often  far  removed  from  a  standard  of  ideal  excellence. 
We  should  always  remember,  with  Mr.  Spencer,  that  "  that 
which  the  best  human  nature  is  capable  of  is  within  the 
reach  of  human  nature  at  large." 

Man,  as  we  find  him  and  as  he  is  revealed  to  us  in  his- 
tory, regards  life  in  one  of  three  possible  ways,  which  we 
may  roughly  classify  as  the  empirical,  the  scientific  or  legal, 
and  the  artistic  or  philosophical.  If  we  would  know  what 
life  really  is,  we  must  grasp  its  essential  characteristics  in 
each  of  these  several  stages  of  man's  mental  evolution,  for, 
as  Prof.  Schurman  has  well  remarked,  "  the  full  nature  of 
any  reality  reveals  itself  only  in  the  totality  of  its  develop- 
ment."* Primitive  man,  using  this  term  inclusively,  as 
descriptive  of  a  degree  of  culture  rather  than  of  an  era  of 
time — for  there  are  many  survivals  of  the  earliest  phase  of 
intellectual  development  at  the  present  day — primitive  man 
is  naturally  imitative,  lacking  in  originality  and  individual- 
ity of  character,  impersonal,  empirical.  That  life,  for  the 
prehistoric  ancestors  of  the  race,  was  clothed  in  somewhat 
somber  hues,  we  can  well  believe ;  yet  we  may  easily  picture 
its  shadows  too  deeply  by  judging  of  their  conditions  of  ex- 
istence from  our  own  advanced  subjective  standpoint.  If 

*  The  Belief  in  God. 


Life  as  a  Fine  Art.  409 

their  pathway  was  not  cheered  by  great  hopes  and  high 
ideals,  neither  was  it  darkened  by  our  customary  forebodings 
of  future  evils,  real  or  imaginary.  The  day's  experience 
was  sufficient  unto  itself.  It  brought  its  little  conventional 
round  of  joys  and  sorrows.  Its  problems  were  compara- 
tively simple,  and  belonged  to  the  immediate  present.  Each 
one  was  solved,  as  well  as  might  be  when  it  arose,  on  a 
purely  empirical  basis.  Primitive  man  viewed  the  world  by 
piecemeal.  His  sense  of  the  causal  correlation  of  events 
was  undeveloped  by  experience.  He  had  little  comprehen- 
sion of  the  relations  between  phenomena,  and  no  concep- 
tion of  an  underlying  or  indwelling  unity.  For  him  the 
thought  of 

"One  God,  one  law,  one  element " 

was  impossible.  His  apprehensions  of  impending  evils 
dominated  his  beliefs.  His  deities  were  as  numerous  as  his 
fears,  and  his  temples  were  rather  pandemoniums  than  pan- 
theons. Of  natural  law  he  had  no  knowledge.  His  morals, 
like  his  conduct  in  general,  were  based  upon  the  egoistic 
data  of  a  narrow  personal  experience  or  the  authority  of  ar- 
bitrary mandates — the  "  thou  shalt "  and  "  thou  shalt  not " 
of  an  irresponsible,  autocratic  hierarchy. 

As  man  grew  in  intelligence,  the  world  gradually  assumed 
for  him  a  different  aspect.  Beneath  its  vast,  orderly,  and 
manifold  activities,  at  first  dimly  and  afterward  more  clear- 
ly, he  apprehended  the  reality  of  the  one  permanent  Being 
which  is  the  nexus  of  all  fleeting  and  transient  phenomena, 
and  whose  constant  methods  of  operation,  symbolized  in  the 
steadily  moving  order  of  these  phenomena,  he  interpreted 
subjectively  and  described  as  the  laws  of  Nature.  With  the 
development  of  the  historical  sense  due  to  a  truer  concep- 
tion of  the  time-element  in  its  relation  to  the  life  of  the 
individual  and  of  society,  he  became  conscious  of  the  dra- 
matic tendency  thus  revealed  in  the  progressive  life  of  the 
world.  A  perception  of  the  unity  of  the  Kosmos — the  di- 
vine order  and  beauty  manifested  in  the  processes  of  Nature 
— grew  upon  him.  With  the  deepening  consciousness  of 
his  relationship  to  the  past  of  the  race  came  co-ordinately 
an  intenser  outlook  toward  the  future.  New  hopes,  new 
desires,  awakened  within  his  mind  The  vague  fears  of  im- 
pending evil,  which  filled  the  soul  of  primitive  man  with 
dread,  developed  into  a  calmer  and  more  philosophic  sense 
of  awe  and  reverence,  and  lent  more  powerful  sanctions  to 
28 


410  Life  as  a  Fine  Art. 

the  mandates  of  conscience — a  profounder  insight  into  those 
uniformities  of  conduct  which  were  revealed  to  his  clearer 
vision  in  the  commanding  features  of  the  Moral  Law. 
Herein  lay  the  germ  of  a  wiser  foresight,  a  true  prophetic 
outlook,  and  of  a  more  orderly  and  progressive  individual 
and  social  life. 

Scarcely  can  we  exaggerate  the  importance  and  signifi- 
cance of  this  step  in  human  evolution.  By  it,  how  many 
irrational  fears  of  the  childhood  of  the  race  were  dissipated ; 
how  much  larger  and  grander  became  the  universe ;  what 
increase  of  courage  and  cheer  entered  into  individual  lives ; 
how  much  more  lively  and  profound  became  man's  sense  of 
responsibility  for  his  actions !  In  the  new  conception  of  the 
universality  and  imperative  nature  of  law  lay  the  germs  of 
all  the  sciences,  of  more  intimate  human  relationships,  of  a 
deepening  sense  of  moral  obligation,  of  an  advancing  and 
triumphant  civilization.  In  this  and  in  the  allied  concep- 
tion of  an  indwelling  and  all-comprehensive  unity  of  force 
and  being  lay  the  possibilities  of  a  new  theology,  spiritual, 
universal,  monotheistic,  which  must  of  necessity  become  a 
solvent  of  national  antipathies  and  a  beneficent  impulse 
toward  the  solidarity  and  brotherhood  of  the  race. 

It  is  easy  to  understand,  however,  that  man  had  not  yet 
taken  his  final  step  in  intellectual  progress.  Implied  in  the 
new  thought  were  certain  dangers  and  limitations  as  well  as 
inspirations.  It  is  evident  that  it  might  become  the  source 
of  an  intellectual  bondage  scarcely  less  oppressive  than  that 
of  the  ignorant  empiricism  of  superstition  which  it  had 
measurably  superseded.  Man  might  easily  picture  himself 
in  the  grasp  of  inexorable  and  unmoral  forces.  Law  might, 
to  his  spiritual  nature,  become  a  weary  burden  rather  than 
an  uplifting  helper.  His  conception  of  the  one  Absolute 
Being  would  naturally  retain  a  strong  residuum  of  the 
primitive  anthropomorphism,  and  his  God  would  come  to 
be  regarded  as  the  stern  lawgiver,  the  arbitrary  and  unyield- 
ing autocrat  of  the  universe.  A  sterile  monotheism,  as  un- 
der the  cultus  of  Islam,  might  deliver  man  over  to  the  rule 
of  an  iron  and  unyielding  fate.  In  philosophy  a  harsh  real- 
ism might  easily  degenerate  into  a  crude  materialism,  as 
empty  of  inspiration  toward  ideal  excellence  in  character 
and  achievement  as  it  is  full  of  the  delusions  of  intellectual 
conceit.  Under  the  unopposed  and  uncounteracted  sway 
of  such  an  intellectual  impulse,  life  would  become  an  ha- 


Life  as  a  Fine  Art.  411 

bitual  round  of  commonplaces.  Keligious  observances  would 
degenerate  into  formal  conventionalisms.  The  sense  of  sin 
for  law-violation  and  of  the  hopelessness  of  escape  there- 
from by  personal  effort  would  be  unduly  intensified  in  indi- 
vidual souls.  Human  nature,  held  in  the  grasp  of  inexora- 
ble law,  would  lose  its  feeling  of  dignity  and  true  responsi- 
bility. Life,  robbed  of  its  natural  buoyancy  and  sponta- 
neity, would  become  a  dull  and  spiritless  routine.  In  the 
effort  to  escape  from  this  bondage  of  legalism,  old  supersti- 
tions would  be  revived,  and  sweep  like  baleful  epidemics 
through  communities.  Aspiring  souls  would  eagerly  clutch 
at  any  wild  expedient  which  seemed  to  promise  an  escape 
from  the  bondage  of  legalism  and  fatalism  to  the  freedom 
of  the  spirit. 

To  the  human  mind  as  normally  constituted,  two  things 
are  absolutely  essential :  a  substratum  of  reality,  a  pou  sto, 
a  fulcrum  for  the  leverage  of  the  intellectual  and  moral  as 
well  as  of  the  physical  activities  of  man ;  and  an  ideal  out- 
look, a  belief  in  an  infinite  opportunity  for  improvement, 
which  would  become  an  incentive  to  hope,  conquest,  faith  in 
the  essential  beneficence  of  life.  The  mind  of  man  is  not 
satisfied  to  rest  in  a  fairyland  of  conjecture  and  imagination ; 
it  must  seek  its  permanent  dwelling-place  in  a  region  of 
solid  facts  and  substantial  realities.  Neither  is  it  willing  to 
accept  the  imperfection  of  present  attainments,  however 
real  and  substantial,  as  a  finality.  It  must  push  on  to  new 
discoveries  of  truth,  and  seek  for  new  applications  of  such 
discoveries  to  the  practical  problems  of  life.  Its  thirst  for 
the  ideal  is  no  less  normal  and  imperative  than  its  hunger 
for  the  real.  Its  faith  is  firm  that — 

"  There  are  things  whose  strong  reality 
Outshines  our  fairyland  ;  in  shapes  and  hues 
More  beautiful  than  our  fantastic  sky, 
And  the  strange  constellations  which  the  Muse 
O'er  her  wild  universe  is  skillful  to  diffuse." 

So  the  art-impulse — spontaneous,  vital,  creative — breaks 
through  the  guerdon  of  constraining  legalism,  and,  while 
appropriating  all  that  is  helpful  and  beneficent  in  science 
and  in  the  conception  of  the  universality  of  law,  emanci- 
pates this  conception  from  its  fettering  limitations  and  re- 
stores the  soul  to  freedom. 

What  I  conceive  to  be  the  essential  characteristics  of  this 
art-impulse  will  incidentally  appear  in  the  subsequent  dis- 


412  Life  as  a  Fine  Art. 

cussion.  Suffice  it  to  say,  by  way  of  preliminary  definition, 
that  it  is  that  perfected  form  or  mode  of  mental  activity 
which  arises  from  an  approximately  complete  psychical 
adaptation  to  the  conditions  of  the  environment — social,  in- 
tellectual, and  physical — out  of  which  it  has  been  evolved ; 
which,  no  longer  conscious  of  meeting  resistance  in  its 
efforts  at  intellectual  apprehension,  acts,  as  it  were,  spon- 
taneously, and  conceives  of  its  own  activities  under  the 
form  of  freedom  ;  which  appears,  therefore,  to  the  conscious 
individual  as  a  self-creative  impulse,  not  as  the  mechanic- 
ally constrained  resultant  of  external  determinative  forces. 
It  is,  nevertheless,  no  supernaturally  intruded  new  creation 
in  man's  psychic  nature,  but  a  natural  evolution  out  of 
previously  existent  modes  of  psychical  activity,  having  a 
recognized  correspondence  with  parallel  stages  of  devel- 
opment in  every  field  and  phase  of  the  evolutionary  pro- 
cess. This  may  perhaps  be  rendered  clear  by  an  illus- 
tration drawn  from  certain  familiar  biological  phenom- 
ena. 

Before  studying  more  in  detail  the  characteristics  of  life 
as  inspired  and  molded  by  the  art-impulse,  let  us  there- 
fore pause  a  moment  to  note  that  the  process  of  evolution 
which  we  have  briefly  traced  in  the  actuating  motives  of 
human  thought  and  endeavor  is  but  a  repetition  of  similar 
tendencies  that  are  observable  throughout  all  the  processes 
of  growing  life.  In  its  earlier  stages,  organic  evolution  ap- 
pears to  be  almost  wholly  empirical  in  its  method,  depend- 
ing upon  accidental  juxtapositions  and  variations,  or  those 
which  seem  accidental,  for  the  conditions  under  which  life 
is  sustained  and  the  operation  of  the  law  of  natural  selec- 
tion— the  chief  factor  in  progressive  development — is  ren- 
dered possible.  When  more  complex  organisms  are  thus 
finally  brought  into  being,  the  processes  whereby  life  is  pre- 
served and  organic  changes  are  initiated  involve  an  exercise 
of  effort  which  we  would  naturally  infer  to  be  volitional — 
the  strife  for  definite  ends,  the  overcoming  of  opposing 
tendencies  and  forces,  and  consequent  stress,  wear,  and  pain 
resulting  from  the  friction  of  opposition.  But  the  processes 
which  preserve  life  in  highly  organized  beings  have  become 
relatively  unconscious  and  automatic.  The  subjective  ac- 
companiment of  their  perfect  operation  is  no  longer  a  sense 
of  painful  or  thwarted  effort,  but  simply  a  general  feeling 
of  well-being  and  satisfaction.  With  man  it  is  a  conscious- 
ness of  ability  to  think,  to  work,  to  grapple  with  the  prob- 


Life  as  a  Fine  Art.  413 

lems  of  life  freely  and  without  friction,  sustained  by  an 
abundance  of  stored-up  energy. 

The  earlier  efforts  of  organic  growth,  which  we  hare 
characterized  as  empirical,  may  be  illustrated  by  the  action 
of  the  simple  unicellular  organism  when  it  stretches  out  its 
pseudopodia  in  search  for  nourishment,  obedient  to  tran- 
sient and  accidental  stinmli.  The  second  stage,  which  we 
have  denominated  orderly  or  scientific,  is  represented  by 
the  action  of  more  highly  organized  beings  when  they  make 
repeated  conscious  efforts,  along  established  lines  of  least 
resistance,  to  seek  for  and  to  appropriate  nourishment,  to 
initiate  growth  and  variation,  to  become  what  they  are  not ; 
to  adapt  themselves  more  perfectly,  in  short,  to  an  ever- 
changing  environment.  Finally,  the  organism  reaches  its 
highest  perfection  in  the  production  of  those  spontaneous 
and  automatic  impulses  which,  subjectively  regarded,  may 
properly  be  termed  artistic.  Such  impulses  appear  to  flow 
from  the  possession  of  a  surplus  of  vital  energy,  and  repre- 
sent and  attest  the  fullness  of  perfect  adaptation.  Their 
character  as  art-impulses  clearly  appears  in  such  processes 
as  those  involved  in  the  recrescence  or  renewal  of  mutilated 
or  destroyed  organs.  Herein  Nature  seems  to  be  definitely 
striving,  by  sheer  excess  of  productive  energy,  to  fulfill  an 
ideal  already  constituted — to  be  working  toward  an  end  held 
definitely  in  view  and  prophetically  outlined  and  prefigured. 
Similar,  also,  is  the  principle  involved  in  those  processes  so 
familiar  in  their  outcome,  yet  so  mysterious  in  their  rationale, 
whereby  each  seed  produces  an  organism  after  its  own  kind, 
imperatively  demanding  and  securing  the  desired  materials 
in  proper  proportions  and  of  suitable  characters  and  potencies 
from  the  environing  soil,  air,  cellular  tissue,  or  blood-plasma. 

Thus  the  processes  of  perfected  life — being  directed,  as  it 
were,  by  an  imperative  impulse  toward  an  ideal  end — may 
rightly  be  regarded  as  art-processes,  and  Nature  in  her 
highest  moods  is  seen  to  be  a  divine  artist  and  not  a  mere 
mechanical  artificer.  As  to  the  true  artist  the  technique  of 
his  work  has  become  automatic,  so  it  is  in  these  processes  of 
Nature.  In  all  conscious  artistic  efforts,  inner  impulse  com- 
mands the  efforts  of  the  artist.  He  works  because  he  must — 
from  inspiration,  as  we  say — and  not  by  rule  or  measure  ;  and 
so  it  appears  to  be  in  these  higher  processes  of  organic  life. 

If  we  now  further  contemplate  the  nature  of  art,  and  of 
all  really  artistic  work,  we  may  be  able  better  to  understand 


414  Life  as  a  Fine  Art. 

the  application  of  the  art-principle  to  the  ordering  of  hu- 
man life. 

The  true  artist  does  not  imitate :  he  creates.  He  does 
not  copy  Nature :  he  studies  her  varying  moods  and  aspects, 
he  catches  her  finest  spirit,  he  sees  her  unity  and  perfection 
and  ignores  her  defects,  thus  portraying  her  not  as  she  act- 
ually is  in  severest  detail,  but  according  to  that  ideal  of 
perfection  toward  which  she  constantly  strives.  His  work 
thus  becomes  in  truth  original  and  creative.  "  It  is  the  ob- 
ject of  art,"  says  Taine,  "  to  manifest  the  essence  of  things." 
Imitation  in  art  should  only  be  applied  "  to  the  relation- 
ships and  mutual  dependence  of  parts,"  not  to  the  spe- 
cific features  of  the  object  to  be  portrayed.*  The  artist 
takes  the  street  beggar,  perhaps,  for  his  model,  but  into 
his  dull  eyes  he  puts  dignity,  animation,  and  nobility  of 
spirit ;  his  shock  of  unkempt  hair  grows  radiant  under  the 
creative  magic  of  his  pencil,  and  becomes  a  fit  crown  for  the 
noblest  ideal  manhood ;  the  head  is  raised  from  its  habitual 
attitude  of  stolid  humiliation  and  given  a  regal  pose  :  be- 
hold now  Moses  or  one  of  the  inspired  prophets !  So  life,  if 
we  would  make  the  most  of  it,  should  not  be  merely  imita- 
tive, even  of  the  loftiest  examples.  I  am  convinced  that 
we  do  best  honor  the  founder  of  Christianity,  not  by  his 
imitation,  but  by  participation  in  his  spirit  of  original  in- 
sight, spontaneity,  and  personal  independence  ;  by  the  effort 
nobly  to  live  our  own  lives,  to  perfect  our  own  personality 
after  its  kind  and  according  to  its  opportunities,  even  as  he 
developed  and  perfected  his. 

The  true  artistic  life  is  characterized  by  freedom  and 
spontaneity,  not  by  conformity  and  compulsion.  Its  law 
is  graven  on  the  heart,  not  on  tablets  of  stone  or  rolls  of 
vellum.  The  artist  does  not  work  by  rule  and  compass, 
but  by  the  free  hand,  trained,  it  is  true,  by  long  and  patient 
practice,  but  obedient  to  no  necessity  save  that  of  the  in- 
stant inspiration  of  his  divine  ideal.  Art,  therefore,  does 
not  antagonize  science :  it  assimilates  it.  The  hand  must 
be  trained  by  repeated  efforts  to  a  perfect  and  spontaneous 
control,  the  eye  to  an  instinctive  perception  of  color,  per- 
spective and  the  relation  of  parts.  He  who  paints  human 
figures  must  understand  the  human  anatomy ;  but  if  he  pos- 
sesses no  other  talent  than  this  scientific  knowledge  of  the 
structure  of  the  body,  no  skill  in  drawing  will  enable  him  to 

*  The  Philosophy  of  Art. 


Life  as  a  Fine  Art.  415 

produce  artistic  effects.  Michelangelo  bent  night  after  night 
over  the  dissecting-table  to  obtain  this  accurate  knowledge  of 
the  human  form.  How  many  have  done  likewise,  and  how 
few  have  become  great  artists  !  The  true  artist  studies  from 
life  rather  than  from  skeletons  and  lay-figures.  He  must 
catch  the  play  of  emotions,  the  change  of  feature,  in  person 
or  in  landscape ;  he  must  transfer  the  fleeting  but  charac- 
teristic quality  of  his  subject  to  the  canvas ;  if  he  works 
toward  an  ideal  end,  he  must  strive  for  an  ideal  beauty  ;  he 
must  combine  qualities  on  his  canvas  or  in  the  clay  which 
are  nowhere  combined  in  nature,  or  he  fails  in  his  attempt. 
So  in  life,  it  is  the  beauty  of  holiness,  not  holiness  by  rule 
and  measure,  that  we  must  seek.  In  morality,  as  in  artistic 
delineation,  symmetry  and  spontaneity  indicate  the  highest 
type  of  character  and  accomplishment.  And  no  matter  how 
rude  the  material  with  which  we  labor,  if  it  so  be  that  we 
work  faithfully  and  intelligently,  the  imprisoned  god  or 
goddess  shall  at  last  step  forth,  obedient  to  the  command  of 
the  master.  Whatever  may  be  man's  daily  occupation,  his 
true  vocation  is  the  development  of  his  own  manhood,  that 
so  he  may  best  serve  the  world.  "  Each  one  of  us,"  says 
Thoreau,  "  is  the  builder  of  a  temple  called  his  body ;  nor 
can  he  get  off  by  hammering  marble  instead."  There  is  no 
body  so  misshapen,  there  are  no  features  so  rugged  and  ill- 
formed,  that  they  can  not  be  ennobled  and  rendered  attract- 
ive by  constant  striving  for  the  highest  ideals  in  life  and 
character;  nor  is  any  countenance  so  beautiful,  any  sym- 
metry of  form  and  feature  so  perfect,  that  they  may  not  be 
fatally  smirched  and  marred  by  sordid  aims  and  unworthy 
thoughts.  And  what  is  true  of  the  body  is  true  in  a  yet 
deeper  sense  of  the  life  and  character.  Profound  indeed  is 
the  truth  that  "  as  a  man  thinketh  in  his  heart,  so  is  he." 
"Know  ye  not,"  says  Carlyle,  "that  Thought  is  stronger 
than  artillery-parks,  molding  the  world  like  soft  clay?  * 
Even  so  it  molds  the  individual  character,  and  directs  its 
physical  expression. 

All  truly  artistic  productions  concentrate  attention  and 
•command  applause,  not  so  much  by  rigid  perfection  of  de- 
tail as  by  their  evident  unity  of  plan  and  conception.  "  It 
is  the  object  of  a  work  of  art,  says  Taine,  "  to  manifest 
some  essential  character,  and  to  employ  as  a  means  of  ex- 
pression an  aggregate  of  connected  parts  the  relations  of 

*  The  French  Revolution. 


416  Life  as  a  Fine  Art. 

which  the  artist  combines  and  modifies."  And  so  it  is  in 
life :  no  life  can  be  truly  great  and  worthy  which  is  not  in 
this  sense  artistic.  It  must  be  steadily  devoted  to  consistent 
and  worthy  ends,  and  exhibit  a  wise  symmetry  and  propor- 
tion in  its  movements.  However  accurately  one  may  follow 
set  rules  of  conduct,  or  obey  established  codes  of  conven- 
tional ethics,  if  his  life  lacks  unity,  spontaneity,  and  nobility 
of  purpose,  it  will  fall  short  of  an  ideal  excellence. 

The  true  artist  does  not  strive  primarily  for  material  re- 
ward; he  desires,  above  all  else,  the  intrinsic  satisfaction 
which  comes  from  successful  accomplishment.  His  work, 
aspiring  toward  an  ideal  perfection,  reaches  out  toward  the 
infinite,  and  does  not  too  closely  note  the  effect  of  each  day's 
effort.  "  Man,"  says  Goethe,  "  exists  .  .  .  not  for  what  he 
can  accomplish,  but  for  what  can  be  accomplished  in  him." 
The  artist's  work  is  judged  by  its  intrinsic  quality  rather 
than  by  its  quantity :  so  character,  the  finished  product  of 
the  life  of  man,  is  a  truer  measure  of  his  worth  than  his 
achievements.  "Man,  symbol  of  eternity,  imprisoned  in 
time,"  says  Carlyle,  "it  is  not  thy  works,  which  are  all 
mortal,  infinitely  little,  and  the  greatest  no  greater  than  the 
least,  but  only  the  spirit  thou  workest  in,  that  can  have 
worth  or  continuance."  *  Many  an  humble  life  which  the 
world,  perhaps,  pronounces  a  failure,  is,  from  this  higher 
standpoint,  an  assured  and  triumphant  success. 

True  art  is  never  parsimonious  of  time  or  materials.  It 
keeps  its  ideal  steadily  in  view,  and  does  not  too  closely  count 
the  cost  involved  in  its  pursuit.  The  exclusive  rule  of  sci- 
ence^ unrestrained  by  ideal  considerations,  leads  to  trivial 
paucities  and  economies  in  life.  Everything  mu  st  be  weighed 
and  measured  and  judged  by  its  apparent  limitations.  Na- 
ture and  art,  on  the  contrary,  are  affluent.  Their  resources 
are  abundant — seemingly  illimitable.  They  strive  for  full- 
ness of  life,  and  their  apparent  prodigalities  turn  out  to  be 
in  fact  the  truest  economies.  As  in  sculpture  the  finished 
statue  bears  but  a  small  quantitative  proportion  to  the  refuse 
clay  and  chips  and  discarded  models  which  have  been  the 
necessary  accompaniments  of  its  production,  so  it  is  in  life. 
Superficially  regarded  by  the  quantitative  standards  of  sci- 
ence, activities  seem  vastly  disproportionate  to  accomplish- 
ments. But  the  philosophical  mind  does  not  therefore  idly 

*  Sartor  Resartus. 


Life  as  a  Fine  Art.  417 

repine,  or  indulge  in  useless  compunctions  and  regrets  over 
wasted  time :  it  knows  that  power  only  comes  by  use ;  that 
life  grows  by  what  it  gives ;  that  no  energy  is  wasted  which 
adds  to  the  store  of  energy,  and  is  wisely  devoted  to  worthy 
ends,  however  remote  the  ideal  may  seem  from  instant  at- 
tainment. 

The  attempt  to  order  human  life  in  accordance  with  the 
principles  of  the  Manchester  school  of  political  economy 
must  prove  a  lamentable  failure.  Living  nature  will  not 
conform  to  the  small,  egoistic  parsimonies  of  an  a  priori 
logic.  Futile  efforts  at  unwise  economies  in  the  vital  activi- 
ties result  in  confining  the  energies  to  a  few  narrow  chan- 
nels, in  the  formation  of  fixed  and  unyielding  habits,  in 
stereotyped  modes  of  thought  and  action,  which  are  fatal 
to  fullness  of  life  and  destructive  of  its  highest  utilities. 
Eunning  in  ruts,  in  the  end,  is  the  poorest  kind  of  econo- 
my, for  the  ruts  cut  deep  into  the  vital  parts  of  our  nature, 
and  curtail  life  not  only  in  its  breadth  and  intensiveness 
but  also  in  its  duration. 

"  The  modern  doctrine  of  evolution,"  says  John  Adding- 
ton  Symonds,  "  infuses  life  into  every  matter  of  inquiry."  * 
Especially  in  its  higher  implications — in  philosophy,  relig- 
ion, and  social  affairs — does  it  come  with  the  benediction  of 
a  new  light  thrown  upon  the  obscure  problems  of  thought 
and  life.  Hitherto,  in  our  efforts  to  solve  these  problems, 
we  have  hardly  risen  above  the  empirical  plane.  A  man's 
religious  and  philosophical  creed,  his  politics,  and  his  atti- 
tude toward  social  problems,  have  been  matters  of  inherit- 
ance, of  convention,  of  natural  or  acquired  bias  or  predi- 
lection, or,  worst  of  all,  of  a  low  self-interest,  rather  than 
of  thoughtful  reflection,  study,  and  vital  assimilation.  Our 
professional  reformers  have  indeed  occasionally  risen  above 
empiricism  to  the  scientific  or  legal  plane  in  the  treatment 
of  these  subjects.  They  have  worked  unselfishly,  desiring 
the  world's  advantage;  but,  failing  to  grasp  the  natural 
laws  of  growth,  their  efforts  have  been  largely  misdirected. 
They  formulate  with  mathematical  exactness  of  plan  and 
detail  on  "  scientific  principles,"  as  they  assert,  their  schemes 
for  individual  salvation  and  social  regeneration — anarchis- 
tic, socialistic,  nationalistic,  or  what  not.  They  measure 
society  and  man  by  their  little  two-foot  rules,  and  seek  to 
fit  the  living  organism  to  their  Procrustean  beds — how  vain- 

*  Essays,  Speculative  and  Suggestive. 


418  Life  as  a  Fine  Art. 

ly,  the  world  sorrowfully  knows.  Nevertheless,  let  us  give 
all  such  honest  efforts  due  meed  of  honest  recognition,  not 
judging  them  unfairly  by  their  failures  to  accomplish  defi- 
nite aims.  They  have  stimulated  thought ;  they  have  created 
new  ideals  for  worthy  activities ;  they  have  afforded  scope 
for  altruistic  efforts  in  their  devotees ;  they  have  helped  to 
expose  the  imperfections  of  the  existing  order  and  to  con- 
centrate efforts  for  its  betterment.  Let  us  be  thankful  for 
the  ideal  republics,  the  Utopias,  the  Icarias ;  for  formu- 
lated creeds,  whether  religious  or  socialistic,  which  are  better 
than  no  beliefs  at  all ;  for  all  these  are  incentives  to  thought 
and  guides  to  altruistic  endeavor.  They  emphasize  the 
growing  importance  of  social  and  religious  problems,  and 
stimulate  wise  minds  to  seek  for  their  true  solution.  But, 
seeing  that  this  world  is  a  growing  world ;  that  the  condi- 
tions we  have  to  deal  with  are  not  statical  but  dynamical ; 
that  they  belong,  indeed,  both  in  the  individual  and  in  so- 
ciety, to  the  department  of  organic  dynamics  rather  than  of 
inorganic — to  the  super-organic,  indeed,  involving  the  added 
factors  of  human  self -consciousness  and  volition ;  seeing 
that  society  is  no  plastic  mass  of  inert  material  to  be  mold- 
ed at  will,  but  an  innumerable  body  of  living,  seething, 
struggling,  aspiring  individual  units,  no  two  of  which  are 
identical  in  nature  more  than  in  form  or  feature — the  wise 
student  of  man  will  not  anticipate  the  success  of  any  of 
these  definite  plans  for  social  regeneration.  He  will  rightly 
distinguish  the  method  of  art  from  that  of  artificiality. 
His  effort  should  be  therefore  to  enrich  the  soil,  to  remove 
obstructions,  to  give  free  play  to  natural  forces,  to  stimulate 
thought  along  evolutionary  lines,  and  thus,  by  a  wise  oppor- 
tunism, to  adapt  his  efforts  to  existing  conditions  and  make 
the  most  and  the  best  of  the  forces  instantly  operating, 
without  the  unnecessary  destruction  and  waste  implied  in 
radical  deviations  from  the  line  of  existing  social  tenden- 
cies. He  will  strive  to 

"  Know  the  seasons,  when  to  take 
Occasion  by  the  hand," 

and  thus  make  his  work  most  fruitful  in  beneficent  results. 
His  method,  in  other  words,  will  be  that  of  evolution  instead 
of  revolution,  that  of  biology  and  sociology  rather  than  of 
abstract  mathematics,  that  of  the  artist  and  philosopher 
rather  than  of  the  empiricist  or  scientific  dreamer — a  method 
which,  being  practical  and  conforming  spontaneously  to  the 


Life  as  a  Fine  Art.  419 

actual  needs  and  conditions  of  a  growing  society,  will  be 
most  speedily  and  productively  effective. 

A  wise  opportunism  such  as  I  have  attempted  to  outline 
does  not  involve  the  abatement  by  one  jot  or  tittle  from  the 
ideal  end — the  true  service  and  betterment  of  man.  "Art 
is  great,"  says  Ruskin,  "  in  exact  proportion  to  the  love  of 
beauty  shown  by  the  painter,  provided  that  love  of  beauty 
forfeit  no  atom  of  truth."  This  is  true  also  of  that  highest 
of  all  arts,  the  art  of  right  living ;  it  must  forfeit  no  atom 
of  truth ;  it  must  not  flinch  from  its  high  ideal.  Fullness 
of  life  being  the  end  which  the  philosophy  of  evolution  and 
the  art-impulse  as  applied  to  life  alike  have  in  view,  it  is 
evident  that  no  course  of  action  which  in  its  final  outcome 
and  totality  of  effect  detracts  from  this  end,  which  pro- 
duces a  surplus  of  pain  rather  than  of  pleasure,  can  be 
deemed  ideally  right.  The  surgery  of  revolution  may  at 
times  be  necessary  in  the  social  as  the  surgeon's  knife  is  to 
the  individual  organism ;  but  no  plea  of  instant  allegiance 
to  an  abstract  ideal  of  truth  and  justice  can  justify  this  re- 
sort to  militant  methods,  unless  it  appears  with  indubitable 
clearness  that  only  thus  can  the  totality  of  life  in  society  be 
finally  increased.  All  surgery  involves  an  atrophy  or  loss 
of  vital  tissue,  and  is  therefore  to  be  avoided  except  when 
it  becomes  absolutely  necessary  for  the  salvation  of  the 
organism  or  the  prolongation  of  life.  The  wise  opportun- 
ism advocated  by  the  social  philosophy  of  evolution  rests 
upon  the  doctrine  of  relativity,  which  holds  good  both  in 
morals  and  in  sociology,  and  is  by  no  means  to  be  confound- 
ed with  the  temporizing  expediency  of  a  false  conservatism, 
which  adheres  to  the  conventional  from  a  servile  fear  of 
change.  In  recognizing  fullness  of  life  in  society  and  the 
individual  as  its  true  object,  and  in  conforming  its  action  to 
this  end,  it  is  dedicating  itself  to  the  service  of  ideal  truth. 
And  in  declining  to  be  led  hither  and  thither  by  those  at- 
tractive will-o'-the-wisps,  the  a  priori  schemes  of  social  re- 
formers, based  upon  alleged  laws  of  absolute  ethics,  it  is  giv- 
ing evidence  at  once  of  its  wisdom  and  of  its  consistency. 

Evolution  preaches  no  gospel  of  dilettantism — good  for 
the  rich  and  prosperous,  but  blind  to  the  evils  of  society, 
the  struggles  of  the  vicious  and  the  poor.  For  vice  and 
crime  this  philosophy  has  indeed  no  palliation,  save  that 
involved  in  the  recognition  that  they  are  inheritances  from 
man's  brute  ancestry ;  no  easy  or  sovereign  remedy  to  pro- 
pose ;  only  the  slow  natural  process  of  amelioration  by  edu- 


420  Life  as  a  Fine  Art. 

cation,  enlightenment,  and  the  gradual  transformation  of 
unfavorable  environments.  But  for  man,  however  lowly, 
however  ignorant,  however  debased,  it  bears  a  gospel  of  in- 
finite hope  and  cheer. 

Vice  and  crime  shut  put  that  infinite  outlook,  that  nuance 
of  encouragement  and  invitation,  which  is  the  soul  of  the 
art-feeling.  To  the  poor,  however,  the  perception  of  life  as 
a  fine  art  is  not  impossible :  it  is  even  more  possible  to  them, 
perhaps,  than 'to  the  very  rich.  These  have  their  reward 
Around  them  is  no  divine  halo  of  unrealized  possibilities. 
For  the  poor,  however,  who  is  not  also  depraved,  who  has 
something  of  hope,  something  of  energy,  there  is  an  illimita- 
ble outlook,  a  hope  and  promise  of  improvement,  a  trust  in 
progress.  Bags  and  dirt,  even,  are  not  inconsistent  with  this 
larger  life  ;  only  vice  and  crime,  which  are  always  the  mis- 
eries of  choice  in  part,  even  when  they  are  portions  of  the 
individual's  inheritance.  The  true  artist  sees  something  of 
this  hopeful,  attractive,  infinite  side  of  poverty.  He  paints 
the  hovel  rather  than  the  palace ;  the  lusty  bootblack  or 
newsboy  on  the  city  street,  or  the  peasant  in  the  field  or  at 
the  brookside — the  humble  interior  with  its  homelike  aspect, 
and  its  occupants  happy  in  the  joy  of  simply  living — rather 
than  the  pomp  of  regal  magnificence.  Such  pictures  touch 
the  heart  with  quite  other  feelings  than  those  of  despair  at 
the  hopelessness  of  poverty.  They  suggest  the  true  comfort, 
the  progressive  up-lift,  the  ideal  satisfaction,  the  real  mean- 
ing of  life,  far  more  effectively  than  does  the  pictured  pomp 
of  courts  or  the  tinsel  show  of  riches.  These  portray  and 
emphasize  the  circumstances  as  superior  to  the  man ;  the 
former  illustrate  the  power  and  habit  of  the  human  soul  to 
triumph  over  its  conditions.  Wealth,  indeed,  is  not  to  be 
despised  or  unconditionally  condemned.  On  the  contrary, 
it  is  one  of  the  factors  of  our  modern  civilization — an  essen- 
tial condition  of  the  world's  spiritual  and  moral  as  well  as 
material  progress.  But  what  I  desire  to  emphasize  is  the 
fact  that  it  is  only  a  condition — a  potency  for  good  if  right- 
ly used,  of  inestimable  evil  if  misused.  Its  value  lies  wholly 
in  its  use,  and  not  at  all  in  any  inherent  virtue  of  its  own. 
Eightly  used  and  equitably  distributed  according  to  the 
deserts  of  its  producers,  it  is  an  indispensable  factor  in  all 
efforts  f 01  the  enlargement  and  betterment  of  life. 

p  Hitherto  I  have  treated  of  this  artistic  or  evolutionary 
view  of  life  as  an  ideal — as  something  to  be  striven  for  and 


Life  as  a  Fine  Art.  421 

attained  But  it  may  also  be  regarded  as  a  means  to  this 
attainment.  Like  life  itself,  like  the  source  of  all  life,  it 
is  at  once  end  and  method  of  pursuit. 

"  They  reckon  ill  who  leave  me  put. 
When  me  they  fly,  I  am  the  wings." 

The  roundabout  mental  activity  enjoined  by  the  art-ideal, 
conjoined  with  bodily  health,  intellectual  seriousness,  and 
moral  earnestness,  is  the  best  of  life-preservers.  When  the 
mind  runs  in  ruts,  it  is  steadily  sowing  therein  the  seeds  of 
"insanities  and  premature  decay ;  but  he  who  views  the  world 
at  large,  takes  an  active  interest  in  its  affairs,  seeks  the  ethi- 
cal solution  of  its  problems  of  individual  and  social  obliga- 
tion, cultivates  pleasurable  avocations  as  well  as  a  useful  and 
honorable  vocation,  lifts  his  life  out  of  the  ruts,  and  pre- 
serves his  faculties  intact  with  lengthening  years.  How 
shortsighted  is  this  prevalent  tendency  to  empiricism  in  the 
care  for  the  health  !  By  abuse  and  carelessness  we  permit 
special  ailments  to  develop,  and  then  go  to  the  physician  for 
vicarious  help.  Or,  if  we  have  risen  to  the  scientific  plane 
of  ^  thought,  if  we  recognize  that  hygiene  has  its  laws  no  less 
imperative  than  the  other  laws  of  Nature,  we  make  our  life 
conform  to  an  unyielding  regime,  we  live  by  rule  and  meas- 
ure, rise  at  a  certain  hour  irrespective  of  our  vital  necessities, 
partake  of  just  so  many  pounds  of  solid  and  liquid  food,  give 


so  many  hours  to  study,  so  many  to  rest,  so  many  to  work 
and  recreation,  and  make  life  miserable  to  ourselves  and 
others  when  any  untoward  event  interferes  with  this  me- 
chanical routine. 

Is  there  not  yet  a  better  way — the  way  of  the  artistic  im- 
pulse ;  which  obeys  law,  indeed,  but  not  under  a  sense  of 
compulsion ;  which  seeks  health  not  through  a  rigidly  im- 
posed regime,  but  naturally  and  freely ;  which  avoids  that 
mental  dyspepsia — that  morbid  dwelling  upon  bodily  condi- 
tions and  ailments— which  is  a  worse  affliction  than  the 
pangs  of  physical  pain  ?  Over  and  above  the  law  of  routine 
and  stated  regularities  of  habit  there  is  a  higher  law — not 
that  of  wayward,  ungovernable  impulse,  but  of  healthful 
spontaneity  and  diversity — which  keeps  both  mind  and  body 
from  decay  and  rust.  If  the  springs  of  life  are  sweet,  its 
waters  pure  and  abundant,  its  courses  clear  of  contamina- 
tion or  obstruction,  both  body  and  mind  healthfully  active, 
with  sufficient  diversity  of  occupation,  we  shall  find  life 


422  Life  as  a  Fine  Art. 

deepening  with  added  years — its  best  wine  saved  for  the  final 
draught. 

Apart  from  this  daily  attitude  toward  the  affairs  of  life — 
or,  more  correctly,  as  a  part  of  it — there  is  no  better  life-pre- 
server than  an  inspiring  philosophy,  and  the  consolation  of 
a  rational  and  satisfying  religious  faith.  But  it  is  necessary 
for  us  to  distinguish  between  that  mode  of  thought  which  is 
properly  termed  religious  and  that  which  is  merely  theo- 
logical. The  theological  mind,  resting  in  the  scientific  or 
legal  phase  of  intellectual  activity,  would  define  the  Infinite 
by  verbal  formulas,  number  and  label  its  attributes  like  geo- 
logical specimens,  posit  a  clear-cut,  final,  and  all-compre- 
hensive creed,  and  make  the  temple  of  religion  a  sort  of 
theological  museum  of  venerable  antiquities.  A  higher 
philosophy,  however,  perceives  that  we  can  not  put  God  into 
the  crucible  of  our  finite  thought — we  can  not  weigh  and 
measure  the  Infinite  with  our  little  rules  and  scales.  With 
Spinoza,  whom  JSTovalis  called  "  a  God-intoxicated  man,"  so 
profound  was  his  sense  of  the  indwelling  Unity,  it  says : 
"  To  define  God  is  to  deny  him."  It  stands  in  awe  before 
the  mystery  and  wonder  of  the  universe.  Eecognizing  all 
Nature  as  a  revelation  of  the  One — all  truth,  whether  secular 
or  sacred,  in  science  and  philosophy  as  well  as  in  Scripture 
or  in  creed,  as  a  symbol  of  his  eternal  verity,  religion  can 
place  no  bounds  in  thought  to  his  infinite  perfection.  As 
interpreted  by  the  art-impulse,  religion  becomes  an  attitude 
of  the  soul  toward  life  itself  rather  than  formal  observance 
or  dogmatic  statement.  It  reverently  recognizes  behind  the 
veil  of  the  known,  underlying  the  fleeting  phenomena  of 
life,  a  Power  whose  universal  method  is  order,  and  whose 
steadily  progressive  order  in  all  the  processes  of  evolution  is 
best  symbolized  in  language  as  the  index  of  intelligence ; 
who,  if  not  personal,  must  be  super-personal  rather  than  im- 
personal, since  the  noblest  thoughts,  the  finest  feelings,  the 
tenderest  loves  which  are  the  endowments  of  man's  person- 
ality, spring  naturally  from  its  abounding  life  and  maintain 
toward  it  a  constant  and  vital  relation  of  dependence. 

Unknowable  in  its  essential  being  because  of  the  finite 
nature  of  our  faculties,  this  Power,  this  Intelligence,  this 
Super-personality,  is  well  known  in  all  of  its  relations  to  us, 
whether  symbolized  in  the  phenomena  of  mind  or  of  exter- 
nal Nature.  _  To  the  high  philosophy  of  the  art-life  and  of 
evolution,  sin,  suffering,  and  imperfection  constitute  the 
necessary  background  of  man's  progressive  nature,  the  dark 


Life  as  a  Fine  Art.  423 

shadows  against  which  the  beautiful  outlines  of  his  noblest 
qualities  are  limned. 

In  the  attitude  of  the  individual  soul  toward  the  prob- 
lems of  life  this  doctrine  is  nothing  else  than  a  restatement 
in  the  terms  of  modern  philosophic  thought  of  the  Chris- 
tian law  of  liberty  as  opposed  to  Hebraic  legalism. 

Infinite  in  the  variety  of  its  manifestations,  life  never 
palls  to  the  mind  which  "  accepts  the  universe,"  and  dwells 
in  this  higher  region  of  philosophic  thought.  It  recog- 
nizes with  Goethe  that  "  Nature's  play  is  ever  new,  since  she 
ever  creates  new  spectators.  Life  is  her  finest  invention, 
and  death  is  her  artifice  to  get  more  life."  With  the  same 
great  thinker,  it  adjures  man  to  "live  resolutely  in  the 
Whole,  in  the  Good,  and  in  the  Beautiful "  * — a  trinity  in 
unity  which  embodies  the  ideals  of  the  Art-Spirit.  Noth- 
ing so  deepens  and  energizes  the  individual  life  as  moral 
earnestness,  conjoined  with  a  hopeful  and  optimistic  spirit. 
In  the  rhythmic  play  of  all  natural  forces  or  phenomena ; 
the  alternation  of  day  and  night,  of  work  and  rest,  of  reflec- 
tion and  executive  activity ;  the  varied  sequence  of  the  sea- 
sons, the  pulsing  of  the  blood,  the  never-ceasing  antithesis 
of  good  and  evil  in  the  soul — the  awakened  mind  of  man 
perceives  what  Curtis  has  well  termed  "  the  systole  and  dias- 
tole of  the  visible  heart  of  beauty." 

This,  then,  is  the  final  word  of  counsel  which  the  phi- 
losophy that  makes  of  life  the  finest,  the  noblest  of  all  the 
arts,  has  for  all  men,  and  especially  for  the  young. 

Think.  Do  not  let  your  mind  lie  fallow.  Satan  finds 
mischief  for  idle  minds  no  less  than  for  idle  hands.  Think 
high  and  noble  thoughts,  wide-reaching  and  beneficent; 
thoughts  which  memory  can  not  recall  without  arousing  a 
thrill  of  thankfulness  and  satisfaction.  Remember  that 
memory  is  built  up  of  daily  experiences,  and  contains  the 
material  of  future  joy  or  pain.  There  is  no  more  terrible 
retribution  than  the  memory  of  unworthy  thoughts  and  evil 
deeds.  Seek,  then,  for  the  highest  truths,  each  one  for 
himself.  Keep  an  open  mind;  do  not  be  content  to  take 
truth  at  second  hand.  Ideas  which  your  mind  has  not  as- 
similated are  stolen  property;  they  are  not  truly  yours. 
Creeds  conventionally  professed,  formulas  mechanically  re- 
peated, "  ossify  the  organs  of  intelligence."  Do  not  avoid 
considering  the  graver  problems  of  life;  regard  them  not 

*  "  Im  Ganzen,  Guten,  Schonen,  resolut  zu  leben." 


424  Life  as  a  Fine  Art. 

superficially,  but  profoundly ;  think  through  them  to  their 
solution.  Do  not  stop  short  in  the  mire  of  pessimism  or 
repose  on  the  flowery  banks  of  fatalism.  Take  in  the  lights 
as  well  as  the  shadows  of  the  great  world-picture  ;  strive  to 
see  the  necessary  relation  of  light  and  shadow,  the  unity 
and  harmony  of  the  whole.  So  shall  your  thoughts,  in- 
deed, transform  the  world  and  recognize  the  Keality  behind 
the  pageant.  As  a  recent  writer  has  truly  said :  "  We  are 
what  we  are  through  thought ;  and  we  may  reasonably  infer 
that  this  is  not  limited  to  our  condition,  but  that  mind 
penetrates  and  animates  all  existence,  forming  (an)  essential 
part  of  that  which  was,  and  is,  and  is  to  be."  * 

And  again  the  Art-Spirit  saith,  Act.  Act  nobly  and  op- 
portunely. Stand  on  the  summit  of  your  moment,  and 
make  the  most  of  the  fleeting  hours.  Do  not  be  a  shirk. 
Strive  to  make  the  world — your  little  world,  at  least — a  bet- 
ter and  happier  world,  a  more  finished  and  artistic  picture. 
Do  not  be  afraid  of  dirt  and  grime,  if  it  so  be  that  your 
straight  way  leads  through  them.  View  them  microscopic- 
ally; you  will  find  them  full  of  beauty.  Eemember  that 
out  of  the  blackest  mire  grows  the  white  lily,  NympUcea 
odorata,  symbol  of  purity,  drawing  from  its  murky  bed  the 
elements  essential  to  its  nourishment.  If  your  path  leads 
over  rough  places,  push  on.  Stout  hearts  are  born  of  effort. 
The  ruggedest  steeps  develop  manly  strength.  Seen  in  their 
proper  perspective,  as  we  look  back  along  the  traveled  road, 
their  harsh  lines  soften  into  harmony. 

Once  more  the  spirit  of  this  new  philosophy  exhorteth  us, 
Be  sympathetic.  It  is  only  by  sympathetic  appreciation  of 
his  object  that  the  artist  can  perfectly  portray  it.  No  merely 
intellectual  comprehension  of  form  and  color  and  proportion 
will  suffice.  How  much  more  is  this  true  of  life !  When 
Confucius  was  questioned  about  true  knowledge,  he  said  :  "  It 
is  to  know  men.  When  you  can  not  serve  men,  how  can  you 
serve  the  spirits  ?  When  you  do  not  know  life,  how  can  you 
know  about  death  ?  "  Know,  then,  thy  brother  man.  Know 
him  by  heart,  not  merely  through  sight  and  intellect.  En- 
ter into  his  joys.  Participate  in  his  sorrows.  Do  not  let 
prosperity  separate  you  from  your  less  fortunate  fellows,  nor 
adversity  chill  the  fountain  of  your  human  sympathies. 

*  John  Addington  Symonds,  in  The  Philosophy  of  Evolution.  (Essays,  Specu- 
lative and  Suggestive.) 


Life  as  a  Fine  Art.  425 

"  No  man  liveth  for  himself  alone."  Helpfully  serve  others 
less  favored  than  yourself,  not  by  unwise  charity  but  by  in- 
spiration to  self-help.  Give  wisely  of  your  abundance  if 
you  will,  but,  above  all,  give  yourself.  Remember  that 
wise  word  of  Herbert  Spencer:  "No  one  can  be  perfect- 
ly free  till  all  are  free  ;  no  one  can  be  perfectly  moral  till 
all  are  moral;  no  one  can  be  perfectly  happy  till  all  are 
happy."  It  is  a  noble  saving  of  the  Buddhist  scripture, 
worthy  of  universal  repetition  :  "Never  will  I  seek  pri- 
vate, individual  salvation  ;  never  will  I  enter  Eternal  Peace 
alone." 


The  Art-Spirit  also  commandeth  us,  Love  books.  They  are 
embodied  thoughts.  They  bring  to  your  mind  the  wisdom 
of  the  past,  the  companionship  of  master  minds.  Make 
good  books  your  companions  and  friends.  But  choose  wise- 
ly :  shut  the  door  to  those  which  belittle  life  or  dissipate  its 
golden  opportunities.  Do  not  become  a  mere  book-  worm 
or  encyclopaedia  of  undigested  facts.  Be  something  more 
than  a  copyist  of  the  style  or  thought  of  other  men.  "  Read 
only  to  start  your  own  team,"  Mr.  Emerson  said  to  his  stu- 
dent friend.  Good  advice,  if  it  be  interpreted  to  mean  the 
team  of  independent  and  original  thought  If  it  be  taken 
as  an  invitation  to  authorship,  receive  it  cum  grano  salis. 
It  is  a  pity  to  spoil  a  good  farmer,  mechanic,  or  doctor  to 
.  make  a  poor  hack  writer.  Do  not  live  exclusively  on  books. 
Mingle  also  with  the  living  world.  Cultivate  the  love  of 
learning  ;  this,  says  Sir  John  Lubbock,  "  is  better  than  learn- 
ing itself." 

In  your  reading  do  not  neglect  history  ;  but  see  that  it  is 
real  history,  the  true  story  of  man  upon  the  earth,  not  a 
mere  string  of  dates,  the  annals  of  princes  and  dynasties. 
These  are  the  accidents  of  history,  not  its  vital  incidents. 
Learn  something  of  the  past  of  the  human  race  ;  for,  as  the 
works  of  the  artist  can  only  be  truly  known  as  they  are  re- 
lated to  his  temporal  environment,  to  the  tendencies,  modes, 
habits,  religion  of  his  time,  so  we  can  not  master  the  nobler 
art  of  HI  e  apart  from  its  environment  ;  we  can  not  know 
society  to-day  without  keeping  step  with  our  father,  Man, 
in  his  majestic  march  through  the  centuries.  As  art  de- 
generated in  the  early  Christian  period  through  neglect  of 
the  living  model,  so  will  the  art  of  life  be  lost  if  we  neglect 
the  living  man  —  the  man  of  to-day  and  the  man  who  was 
the  life  of  history. 


426  Life  as  a  Fine  Art. 

And  again  the  Spirit  of  this  high  philosophy  saith,  Love 
Nature  She  is  our  bountiful  mother.  But  do  not  view 
her  too  much  at  close  quarters.  Seek  for  the  right  perspect- 
ive. Cultivate  that  form  of  observation  that  sees  more  in 
the  object  looked  at  than  its  mere  outlines  and  limitations, 
or  the  details  of  its  structural  imperfections.  Apprehend 
the  halo  of  the  infinite  which  crowns  and  transfigures  every 
finite  object.  The  perception  of  beauty  in  Nature  is  an 
acquired  faculty.  Primitive  man  had  it  not.  There  is  little 
note  of  it  in  the  earlier  literatures.  Many  even  of  our  own 
time  have  but  a  vague  appreciation  of  it.  It  deepens  in  the 
individual  soul  with  the  growing  life.  It  takes  the  hue  and 
color  of  our  thought.  What  we  see  in  Nature  is  not  her- 
self alone,  but  herself  plus  our  own  awakened  sensibilities, 
moral  and  spiritual  no  less  than  physical  and  intellectual. 
The  Persian  aphorism  is  hardly  less  true  of  man  than  of 
Deity :  "  God  maketh  of  every  atom  of  the  universe  a  mir- 
ror, and  fronteth  each  with  his  perfect  face."  If  the  un- 
yielding laws  of  Nature — the  savagery  and  struggle  of  the 
past — her  harshness  and  severity,  oppress  us ;  if  we  incline 
to  pronounce  her  not  only  unmoral  but  immoral ;  if  we  see 
in  her  no  promise  for  man,  the  fault  is  probably  in  our  own 
mental  deficiencies.  "When  the  archer  fails  to  hit  the 
mark,"  says  Confucius,  "  he  turns  around  and  looks  for  the 
cause  of  his  failure — in  himself."  Nature,  viewed  rightly, 
holds  up  a  mirror  to  the  soul.  All  the  imaginary  pictures- 
of  the  New  Jerusalem,  from  that  of  the  Apocalypse  to  those 
of  Swedenborg  or  the  modern  spiritualist,  how  mechanical, 
how  wooden  they  are !  How  infinitely  inferior  in  beauty  and 
attractiveness  to  our  own  abused  and  despised  little  world ! 

Finally  the  Art-Spirit  counseleth  us,  Love  life.  Drink 
deep  from  its  crystal  spring.  Do  not  fear  to  prize  life  too 
highly.  What  it  lacks  for  you  now,  put  into  it  by  your  own 
wise  activities.  Life  has  much  for  you  by  nature — by  in- 
heritance. It  may  be  much  more  to  you  under  the  influence 
of  the  art-spirit.  Here,  if  anywhere,  in  our  perception  of 
the  infinite  value  of  life — of  human  life  as  the  final  product 
on  this  earth  of  the  long  travail  of  Nature — we  must  find  the 
rational  basis  of  an  immortal  hope.  That  which  is  the  su- 
preme product  of  Nature's  long  evolutionary  travail — the 
self-conscious  individuality  of  a  moral  being — she  may  find 
means  to  continue  beyond  the  boundaries  of  our  present  ex- 
istence. Boundless  are  the  possibilities  of  the  Kosmos, 


Life  as  a  Fine  Art.  427 

which  the  mind  of  man  has  not  fathomed :  equally  bound- 
less may  be  our  rational  hope. 

Art  and  Nature,  as  applied  to  life,  are  not  antithetical,  but 
supplementary.  Art  crowns  the  definite  actualities  of  Na- 
ture with  the  halo  of  infinite  hope,  and  this  impels  man  to 
higher  realizations.  "  The  art  that  you  say  adds  to  Nature 
is  an  art  that  Nature  makes."  Art  is  a  higher  and  a  truer 
nature.  "  If  you  take  a  man  as  he  is  made  by  Nature,"  says 
Plato,  "  and  compare  him  with  another  who  is  perfected  by 
art,  the  work  of  Nature  will  always  appear  less  beautiful,  be- 
cause art  is  more  accurate  than  Nature." 

If  life  seems  to  you  an  insoluble  problem,  cultivate  this 
spirit  of  rational  philosophy  and  high  hope.  View  life 
through  the  artist's  eyes.  Put  behind  you  the  darkness  of 
pessimism  and  waning  hope.  Let  your  philosophy  of  life 
be  synthetic  rather  than  analytical.  Seek  for  the  good  in 
things  evil — for  the  truth  in  creeds  antagonistic.  Cultivate 
a  large  charity  for  the  thoughts  of  others,  while  firmly  ad- 
hering to  your  own  convictions  of  truth.  Man's  beliefs,  too, 
are  products  of  evolution — growths,  not  manufactures.  Un- 
der all  seeming  antagonisms  lies  some  germinal  form  of  truth 
— as  in  a  similar  semblance  of  antithesis,  Nature  finds  its 
most  perfect  manifestation  in  art,  and  liberty  its  complete 
fulfillment  under  law. 

So  in  ethics  :  the  compulsion  of  conscience  ultimates  in 
the  freedom  of  the  spirit ;  the  sense  of  obligation  is  but  a 
step  toward  the  extinction  of  obligation  in  willing  obedience. 
The  stern  mandates  of  the  Ought  are  not  definitive  of  the 
last  and  highest  stage  in  the  evolution  of  conduct.  Duty  is 
a  school-master,  whose  control,  doubtless,  we  all  yet  need, 
but  only  as  a  preparation  for  the  higher  university  of  life 
wherein  ^  natural  spontaneity  of  right  action  will  supersede 
compulsion — wherein  we  shall  serve  the  right  for  love  of  the 
right,  and  find  in  such  faithful  and  willing  service  our  su- 
premest  joy. 

As  the  wise  Goethe  hath  said  : 

Art  from  Nature's  rudeness  ever  seems  to  fly, 

Yet,  before  we  think  it,  they  are  one  again ; 
My  distrust  of  Nature,  too,  has  passed  away : 

Art  and  Nature  draw  me  by  a  single  chain. 
Faithful  work — this  only — helps  the  growing  life. 

When  in  love  we  labor,  serving  noble  Art, 
Life's  horizon  broadens — deepens  with  the  strife : 

Freely  then  may  Nature  glow  within  the  heart. 


428  Life  as  a  Fine  Art. 

Thus,  by  consecration  is  our  culture  wrought : 
Vainly  unreined  spirits  hasten  toward  the  goal — 
Vainly  strive  to  conquer  yon  far-seeing  height. 

He  who  wills  the  Great  must  serve  the  stringent  Ought. 
Only  such  obedience  proves  the  Master-Soul : 
Law  alone  assures  us  Freedom's  conquering  might. 


Life  as  a  Fine  Art.  429 


ABSTRACT  OF  THE    DISCUSSION. 

PROF.  ALMON  GK  MERWIN  : 

Mr.  Merwin  said,  in  substance  : 

It  need  hardly  be  said  that  I  heartily  appreciate  the  fine  spirit  and 
the  suggestive  thought  which  are  illustrated  in  the  lecture  of  the  even- 
ing. It  is  perhaps  unfortunate  that  in  these  criticisms  we  make  little 
remark  of  the  greatness  of  the  truth  which  is  set  forth  by  the  speaker, 
while,  by  selecting  and  commenting  chiefly  upon  those  points  which 
seem  to  us  open  to  objection,  we  unduly  magnify  what  appear  to  us 
to  be  his  errors.  In  these  remarks,  therefore,  I  by  no  means  wish  to 
be  understood  as  undervaluing  the  excellence  of  thought  and  the  fine 
literary  form  of  Dr.  Janes's  lecture.  It  seems  to  me,  however,  that  in 
some  of  his  phraseology,  and  perhaps  also  in  some  of  his  conclusions, 
he  has  departed  from  the  strictly  scientific  mode  of  treatment  which 
should  characterize  these  discussions.  He  has  given  us  poetry  instead 
of  scientific  evolution.  He  has  made  frequent  use  of  the  word  "  in- 
finite," for  example ;  but  what  does  the  scientific  evolutionist  know 
about  the  infinite  1  He  has  said  that  "  the  art-impulse,  spontaneous, 
vital,  creative,  breaks  through  the  bondage  of  constraining  legalism, 
and  restores  the  soul  to  freedom."  What  does  he  mean  by  this  "  art- 
impulse  "  ?  Is  it  some  higher  power,  some  new  creation,  which  revo- 
lutionizes the  nature  of  man  ?  He  has  spoken  of  this  impulse  as  "  au- 
tomatic." Does  this  expression  truly  describe  the  higher  mental  ac- 
tivities ?  This  is  not,  as  I  understand  it,  the  teaching  of  psychological 
science  or  of  evolution.  The  lower  organisms  possess  a  greater  num- 
ber of  automatic  or  instinctive  functions  than  does  man.  How  can 
this  fact  be  reconciled  with  the  lecturer's  theory  that  functions  become 
automatic  as  they  become  more  perfect!  The  lecturer  speaks  of  "the 
ideal "  as  something  which  governs  the  action  of  the  artist.  This  is 
true.  But  what  of  it?  What  is  an  ideal  1  Psychologically,  this  state- 
ment only  means  that  the  artist's  work,  like  all  other  voluntary  opera- 
tions, exists  in  thought  before  it  is  realized  or  objectified.  The  man 
who  makes  a  wheelbarrow  first  conceives  of  the  wheelbarrow  in  his 
mind.  In  other  words,  he  first  creates  an  ideal.  The  artist  only  does 
the  same  thing.  He  exercises  no  new  power ;  the  same  faculty  which 
governs  his  conduct,  in  some  degree  governs  that  of  all  other  men. 
The  lecturer,  it  seems  to  me,  has  drawn  distinctions  which  are  not  jus- 
tified by  a  true  psychology.  He  has  given  us  poetry  and  rhetoric  in 
the  place  of  cold  facts  and  scientific  deductions  therefrom. 


430  Life  as  a  Fine  Art. 

ME.  WILLIAM  POTTS: 

I  am  not  a  psychologist,  but  it  requires  no  knowledge  of  psychology 
to  enable  me  to  realize  that  there  are  many  things  in  the  life  of  man 
which  have  become  automatic  besides  digestion  and  the  vital  func- 
tions. If  we  had  to  think  out  all  our  actions  for  the  day,  we  could 
not  possibly  accomplish  the  work  which  we  do.  All  things  which  we 
do  habitually,  or  after  long  practice,  become  to  some  degree  auto- 
matic ;  and  it  appears  to  me  that  Dr.  Janes  is  right  in  regarding  this 
quality  as  characteristic  of  our  higher  or  perfected  activities.  The 
performance  of  the  trained  musician  is  largely  automatic,  and  so  of 
all  high  forms  of  artistic  work.  The  same  principle  holds  good  in 
every  department  of  our  life — from  the  training  of  the  infant  to  walk 
and  use  his  hands  up  to  the  exercise  of  our  highest  mental  faculties. 
Things  which  at  first  need  to  be  thought  out  and  wrought  out  with 
foresight  and  plodding  labor,  by  practice  become  intuitive  or  auto- 
matic. 

DE.  JANES: 

I  think  no  higher  compliment  can  be  paid  to  a  lecturer  than  that  of 
an  intelligent  criticism.  Such  a  criticism  I  have  learned  always  to  ex- 
pect from  Prof.  Merwin,  and  I  thank  him  for  it.  As  he  proceeded, 
however,  it  appeared  to  me  that  his  remarks  indicated  a  more  intimate 
acquaintance  with  text-books  of  systematic  psychology  than  with 
works  bearing  upon  the  higher  phases  of  the  doctrine  of  evolution. 
No  one  who  reads  Spencer,  for  example,  can  fairly  object  to  my  use  of 
the  word  "  infinite."  This  great  master  teaches  us  that  the  apprehen- 
sion of  the  infinite  is  as  normal  to  the  human  mind  as  is  our  compre- 
hension of  any  of  the  laws  or  phenomena  of  either  mental  or  material 
things.  It  is  fundamental  to  all  our  thought,  the  condition  precedent 
to  all  other  knowledge.  My  critic  thinks  there  is  some  poetry  in  my 
essay.  This  I  shall  not  deny,  though  I  make  no  pretense  to  be  a  poet. 
But  I  object  decidedly  to  the  inference,  "  The  more  poetry,  the  less 
truth."  Poetry  is  one  of  the  modes  of  expressing  truth.  The  poet 
sometimes  arrives  at  truth — even  scientific  truth— in  advance  of  the 
apostle  of  the  scientific  method ;  as  did  Goethe  and  our  own  Emerson 
in  regard  to  this  very  doctrine  of  evolution.  Prof.  Merwin  thinks  that 
the  fact  that  the  lower  organisms  possess  a  greater  number  of  auto- 
matic functions  than  man  somehow  discredits  my  theory.  Not  at  all. 
This  is  simply  the  order  of  Nature.  The  lower  grade  of  functions 
is  first  perfected— first  becomes  automatic.  The  higher  are  developed 
and  perfected  later.  Man,  though  the  highest  of  all  the  animals  in  the 
scale  of  intelligence,  for  that  very  reason  has  a  smaller  proportion  of 


Life  as  a  Fine  Art.  431 

automatic  functions — though  absolutely  his  instincts  are  doubtless 
more  numerous  than  those  of  the  lower  animals.  My  phraseology  may 
doubtless  at  some  points  be  open  to  criticism ;  I  have  aimed  to  give 
my  thought  popular  and  unconventional  expression.  But  the  essen- 
tial thought  I  hold  to  be  strictly  in  harmony  with  scientific  truth  and 
the  doctrine  of  evolution.  I  agree  with  my  critic  that  the  Art-Spirit 
as  applied  to  life  is  not  the  gift  of  a  favored  few :  it  is  possible  in 
some  measure  to  all.  But  for  that  fact  this  lecture  would  not  have 
been  written.  If  Prof.  Merwin  will  carefully  read  his  Data  of  Ethics 
—particularly  the  chapter  entitled  The  Psychological  View— he  will 
find  the  exact  principles  set  forth  in  my  lecture  enunciated,  as  applied 
to  man's  moral  development,  in  the  wonderfully  clear  and  convincing 
language  of  Mr.  Spencer.  In  biology,  he  will  find  them  also  illus- 
trated in  the  works  of  Cope,  Powell,  and  other  writers.  I  rest  my  case 
on  the  substantial  harmony  of  the  views  set  forth  in  this  lecture  with 
those  of  the  masters  of  evolutionary  thought,  claiming  no  exclusive 
novelty  or  patent  right  for  myself. 
I  thank  the  audience  sincerely  for  its  kind  reception  of  my  lecture. 


THE 
DOCTRINE  OF  EVOLUTION 

ITS  SCOPE  AND  INFLUENCE 


BT 

JOHN  FISKE 

AUTHOR  OF  OCTLIXES  OP  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY,  THE  IDEA  OF  GOD, 
THE  DESTINY  OF  MAN,  ETC. 


COLLATERAL  READINGS  SUGGESTED: 

Spencer's  First  Principles,  Principles  of  Biology,  Principles  of 
Psychology,  Principles  of  Sociology,  Data  of  Ethics,  and  Justice ; 
Fiske's  Cosmic  Philosophy,  Idea  of  God,  and  Destiny  of  Man. 


THE    DOCTRINE    OF     EVOLUTION:     ITS 
SCOPE    AND    INFLUENCE.* 

BY  JOHN  FISKE. 

IF  you  take  up  almost  any  manual  or  compendium  of  his- 
tory written  before  the  middle  of  the  present  century,  you 
will  generally  find  it  to  be  a  lifeless  catalogue  of  events,  and 
more  likely  than  not  an  undiscriminating  catalogue  in 
which  important  and  trivial  events  are  jumbled  together  in 
utter  obliviousness  of  any  such  thing  as  historical  perspective. 
Of  great  and  admirable  books  of  history  there  were  indeed 
many  by  illustrious  writers  of  ancient  and  modern  times,  in 
which  the  men,  the  measures,  and  the  social  features  of 
particular  epochs  were  portrayed  with  life-like  reality  and 
often  illustrated  and  criticised  with  a  wealth  of  practical 
wisdom.  But  the  insight  into  the  underlying  causes  and 
the  general  drift  of  the  endlessly  complicated  mass  of 
human  affairs  was  dim  and  uncertain,  and  of  the  essential 
unity  of  history,  the  solidarity  in  the  multifarious  career 
of  mankind,  there  was  hardly  a  suspicion.  Three  great 
books  in  narrative  form,  which  reached  out  toward  a  pres- 
entation of  the  unity  of  history,  may  be  cited  in  illustration 
of  the  difficulty  under  which  all  such  attempts  necessarily 
labored  in  the  absence  of  such  broad  scientific  conceptions 
as  have  been  gained  only  within  recent  times.  Bossuet's 
Discourse  on  Universal  History  was  a  work  of  noble  design ; 
but,  being  necessarily  limited  by  the  narrow  theology  of  the 
time,  it  could  only  see  the  vast  importance  of  the  work  of 
the  Hebrew  race,  and,  seeing  no  further,  could  not  properly 
estimate  even  this ;  while  as  for  any  appreciation  of  natural 
causes,  its  perpetual  appeal  to  the  miraculous  made  any- 
thing of  the  sort  quite  impossible.  In  Voltaire's  Essay  on 
the  Manners  and  Morals  of  Nations  there  is  a  strong  fore- 
shadowing of  the  unity  of  history,  but  very  slight  practical 
recognition  of  the  differences  between  one  stage  of  civiliza- 
tion and  another,  and  the  philosophy  of  the  book  is  quite  too 
much  that  of  a  sermon  on  the  evils  of  priestcraft.  In  the 

*  Address  before  the  Brooklyn  Ethical  Association,  May  31,  1891.  Reprinted 
from  the  Popular  Science  Monthly,  September,  1891,  by  permission  of  D.  Apple- 
ton  &  Co.  Revised  by  the  author. 


436  The  Doctrine  of  Evolution. 

colossal  work  of  Gibbon  there  is  a  dramatic  unity  of  design 
and  a  sense  of  historical  perspective  that  from  an  artistic 
point  of  view  can  not  be  praised  top  highly.  It  is,  no  doubt, 
an  immortal  book,  one  of  the  classics  for  all  ages ;  but  as  an 
interpretation  of  events  it  goes  but  little  way.  The  period 
of  twelve  hundred  years  which  it  covers  was  crowded  with 
facts  of  decisive  import  for  all  future  time  which  failed  to 
arrest  the  author's  attention.  There  is  no  consciousness 
that  this  period,  which  witnessed  the  decline  and  overthrow 
of  a  certain  phase  of  political  organization,  was  in  the  main 
a  period  of  lusty  growth  and  wholesome  progress  rather 
than  a  period  of  stagnation  or  decline.  Nor,  indeed,  is 
there  any  explanation  of  the  great  conspicuous  fact  of  the 
decline  and  fall  of  the  Eoman  imperial  organization;  we 
are  told  what  events  happened,  and  often  how  they  hap- 
pened, but  we  are  seldom  made  to  understand  why  they 
happened.  The  grasp  upon  the  underlying  causes  is  ex- 
tremely feeble,  as  one  can  not  but  feel  in  a  moment  if,  after 
laying  down  Gibbon,  one  picks  up  a  volume  of  Mommsen, 
or  Freeman,  or  Sir  Henry  Maine. 

Most  of  the  shortcomings  of  the  old  method  of  historical 
writing  resulted  from  the  fact  that  the  world  was  looked  at 
from  a  statical  point  of  view,  or  as  if  a  picture  of  the  world 
were  a  series  of  detached  pictures  of  things  at  rest.  The 
human  race  and  its  terrestrial  habitat  were  tacitly  assumed 
to  have  been  always  very  much  the  same  as  at  present.  One 
age  was  treated  much  like  another,  and  when  comparisons 
were  made  it  was  after  a  manner  as  different  from  the 
modern  comparative  method  as  alchemy  was  different  from 
chemistry.  As  men's  studies  had  not  yet  been  turned  in 
such  a  direction  as  to  enable  them  to  appreciate  the  immen- 
sity of  the  results  that  are  wrought  by  the  cumulative  action 
of  minute  causes,  they  were  disposed  to  attach  too  much 
importance  to  the  catastrophic  and  marvelous;  and  the 
agency  of  powerful  individuals — which  upon  any  sound 
theory  must  be  regarded  as  of  great  importance — they  not 
only  magnified  unduly  but  rendered  it  unintelligible  when 
they  sought  to  transform  human  heroes  into  demi-gods. 

It  thus  appears  that  the  way  in  which  our  forefathers 
treated  history  was  part  and  parcel  of  the  way  in  which  they 
regarded  the  world.  Whether  in  history  or  in  the  physical 
sciences,  they  found  themselves  confronted  by  a  seemingly 
chaotic  mass  of  facts  with  which  they  could  deal  only  in  a 
vague  and  groping  manner  and  in  small  detached  groups. 


The  Doctrine  of  Evolution.  437 

Until  geology  had  made  some  headway,  men  had  no  means 
of  knowing  that  the  state  of  things  upon  the  earth's  surface 
was  once  utterly  different  from  anything  that  human  tradi- 
tion can  remember,  and  it  was  accordingly  quite  natural 
that  they  should  suppose  that  things  have  always  been  about 
as  they  are.  The  human  mind  can  not  transcend  experi- 
ence. The  man  who  has  always  lived  in  a  comparatively 
unchanged  environment  will,  of  course,  never  believe  in  a 
different  state  of  things  until  taught  by  some  fresh  experience. 
How  long  it  was  before  it  was  brought  home  to  men  that 
the  testimony  of  the  unaided  senses  needs  to  be  corrected 
by  systematic  observation  and  reasoning !  From  this  point 
of  view,  as  indeed  from  some  others  also,  the  revolution  in 
astronomical  theory  effected  by  Copernicus  was  one  of  the 
greatest  events  in  human  history.  Its  philosophic  conse- 
quences were  profound.  In  teaching  men  the  necessity  of 
going  back  of  superficial  appearances,  and  subjecting  their 
crude  opinions  to  some  kind  of  critical  test,  it  was  an  object- 
lesson  of  unsurpassed  value.  Along  with  this  abrupt  shift- 
ing of  man's  apparent  position  in  the  universe,  came  the 
astonishing  results  of  oceanic  discovery,  enlarging  fourfold 
the  dimensions  of  the  known  world  and  bringing  the  mind 
into  contact  with  organic  and  inorganic  nature  in  various 
new  and  unsuspected  forms.  Then  came  the  Newtonian 
astronomy,  in  which  a  generalization  from  terrestrial  physics 
was  extended  into  the  celestial  spaces  and  quantitatively 
verified.  There  was  an  immense  enlargement  of  the  mental 
horizon,  and  the  problems  immediately  connected  with  it 
were  enough  to  occupy  the  attention  of  all  the  foremost 
mathematical  minds  for  more  than  a  century.  It  made 
man  a  denizen  of  the  solar  system  as  well  as  of  his  own  par- 
ticular planet  $  and  in  these  latter  days,  since  the  law  of 
gravitation  has  been  extended  to  the  sidereal  heavens  and 
spectrum  analysis  has  begun  to  deal  with  nebulas,  there  is 
abundant  proof  that  properties  of  matter  and  processes  with 
which  we  are  familiar  on  this  earth  are  to  be  found  in  some 
of  the  remotest  bodies  which  the  telescope  can  reach,  and  it 
is  thus  forcibly  impressed  upon  us  that  all  are  parts  of  one 
stupendous  whole. 

This  enlargement  of  the  mental  horizon,  from  Newton  to 
Kirchhoff,  had  reference  to  space.  A  similar  enlargement 
with  reference  to  time  was  an  indispensable  preliminary  to 
any  correct  understanding  of  how  the  world  is  made  and 
what  is  going  on  in  it.  But,  before  much  headway  could 


438  The  Doctrine  of  Evolution. 

be  made  in  geology,  it  was  necessary  that  physics  and  chem- 
istry, the  sciences  which  generalize  the  properties  of  matter, 
in  the  mass  and  in  the  molecule,  should  be  to  some  extent 
apprehended;  and  it  is  almost  startling  to  think  how 
modern  all  this  is — scarcely  more  than  a  hundred  years 
since  Priestley  discovered  oxygen,  since  it  became  possible 
to  tell  what  goes  on  when  you  burn  a  log  of  wood  on  the 
hearth !  and  not  so  very  much  longer  since  Black  discovered 
latent  heat  and  gave  us  a  clew  to  what  happens  when  water 
freezes  and  melts  or  when  it  is  turned  into  steam !  It  is 
only  within  fifty  years  that  physics  and  chemistry  have 
begun  to  assume  the  form  of  coherent  bodies  of  scientific 
truth.  Evidently  geology  could  not  be  expected  to  take 
scientific  shape  until  late  in  the  eighteenth  century,  or  to 
make  any  notable  conquests  before  the  nineteenth.  But 
when  geology  did  win  its  first  great  triumph,  about  sixty 
years  ago,  it  was  in  some  ways  the  most  remarkable  mo- 
ment in  the  history  of  thought  since  the  promulgation  of 
the  Newtonian  astronomy.  Newton  proved  that  the  forces 
which  keep  the  planets  in  their  orbits  are  not  strange  or 
supernatural  forces,  but  just  such  forces  as  we  are  familiar 
with  on  this  earth  every  moment  of  our  lives.  Geologists 
before  Lyell  had  been  led  to  the  conclusion  that  the  general 
aspect  of  the  earth's  surface  with  which  we  are  familiar  is 
by  no  means  its  primitive  or  its  permanent  aspect,  but  that 
there  has  been  a  succession  of  ages  in  which  the  relations  of 
land  and  water,  of  mountain  and  plain  have  varied  to  a 
very  considerable  extent,  in  which  soils  and  climates  have 
undergone  most  complicated  vicissitudes,  and  in  which  the 
earth's  vegetable  products  and  its  animal  populations  have 
again  and  again  assumed  new  forms  while  the  old  forms 
have  passed  away.  In  order  to  account  for  such  wholesale 
changes,  geologists  were  at  first  disposed  to  imagine  violent 
catastrophes  brought  about  by  strange  agencies — agencies 
which  were  perhaps  not  exactly  supernatural,  but  in  some 
unspecified  way  different  from  the  agencies  that  are  now  at 
work  in  the  visible  and  familiar  order  of  Nature.  But  Lyell 
proved  that  the  very  same  kind  of  physical  processes  which 
are  now  going  on  about  us  would  suffice  during  a  long  period 
of  time  to  produce  the  changes  in  the  inorganic  world  which 
distinguish  one  geological  period  from  another.  Here,  in 
Lyell's  geological  investigations,  there  was  for  the  first  time 
due  attention  paid  to  the  immense  importance  of  the  pro- 
longed and  cumulative  action  of  slight  and  unobtrusive 


The  Doctrine  of  Evolution.  439 

causes.  The  continual  dropping  that  wears  away  stones 
might  have  served  as  a  text  for  the  whole  series  of  beautiful 
researches  of  which  he  first  summed  up  the  results  in  1830. 
As  astronomy  was  steadily  advancing  toward  the  proof  that 
in  the  remotest  abysses  of  space  the  physical  forces  at  work 
are  the  same  as  terrestrial  forces ;  so  now  geology,  in  carry- 
ing us  back  to  enormously  remote  periods  of  time,  began  to 
teach  that  the  forces  at  work  have  all  along  been  the  same 
forces  that  are  at  work  now.  In  that  early  stage  when  the 
earth's  crust  was  in  process  of  formation,  when  the  tempera- 
ture was  excessively  high,  there  were,  of  course,  phenomena 
such  as  can  not  now  be  witnessed  here,  but  to  find  a  parallel 
to  which  we  must  look  to  certain  other  planets — such  as 
violent  atmospheric  disturbances,  and  such  as  the  dissociation 
of  chemical  elements  which  we  are  accustomed  to  find  in 
close  combination.  But  since  the  cooling  of  the  earth  to  a 
point  at  which  its  solid  crust  acquired  _  stability,  since  the 
ancestors  of  the  amphioxus  began  to  swim  in  the  seas  and 
worms  to  crawl  in  the  ground,  if  you  could  at  almost  any 
time  have  visited  the  earth,  you  would  doubtless  have  found 
things  going  on  at  measured  pace  very  much  as  at  present — 
here  and  there  earthquake  and  avalanche,  fire  and  flood,  but 
generally  rain  falling,  sunshine  quickening,  herbage  sprout- 
ing, creatures  browsing,  all  as  quiet  and  peaceful  as  a  daisied 
field  in  June,  without  the  slightest  presage  of  the  continuous 
series  of  secular  changes  that  were  gradually  to  transform 
the  Carboniferous  world  into  what  was  by  and  by  to  be  a 
Jurassic  world,  and  that  again  into  what  was  after  a  while 
to  be  an  Eocene  world,  and  so  on  until  the  aspect  of  the 
world  which  we  know  should  quietly  emerge. 

The  influence  of  the  new  geology  upon  men's  habits  of 
thought  and  upon  the  drift  of  philosophic  speculation  was 
profound.  It  was  proved  beyond  question  that  the  world 
was  not  created  in  the  form  in  which  we  find  it  to-day,  but 
has  gone  through  many  phases  of  which  the  latter  are  very 
different  in  aspect  from  the  earlier ;  and  it  was  shown  that, 
at  any  rate  so  far  as  the  inorganic  world  is  concerned,  its 
changes  can  be  much  more  satisfactorily  explained  by  a  ref- 
ence  to  the  ceaseless,  all-pervading  activity  of  gentle,  unob- 
trusive causes  such  as  we  know,  than  by  an  appeal  to  imagi- 
nary catastrophes  such  as  we  have  no  means  of  verifying. 
It  began  to  appear,  also,  that  the  facts  which  form  the  sub- 
ject-matter of  different  departments  of  science  are  not  de- 
tached and  independent  groups  of  facts,  but  that  all  are 


440  TJie  Doctrine  of  Evolution. 

intimately  related  one  with  another,  and  that  all  may  be 
brought  under  contribution  in  illustrating  the  history  of 
cosmical  events.  Thus,  in  one  way  and  another,  about  the 
time  when  Mr.  Darwin  set  out  on  his  memorable  voyage 
around  the  world,  men  were  beginning  to  arrive  at  a  vague 
general  conception  of  evolution  as  an  orderly  succession  of 
phases  of  nature,  in  which  any  given  phase  is  produced  from 
an  antecedent  phase  through  the  agency  of  causes  which  are 
like  those  now  in  operation,  and  which  must  therefore  ad- 
mit of  definite  scientific  study  and  explanation. 

The  time  had  at  length  arrived  when  the  facts  of  organic 
life  could  be  brought  under  this  general  conception.  As 
long  as  it  was  supposed  that  each  geologic  period  was  sepa- 
rated from  the  periods  immediately  before  and  after  it  by 
Titanic  convulsions  which  revolutionized  the  face  of  the 
globe,  it  was  possible  for  men  to  acquiesce  in  the  supposi- 
tion that  these  convulsions  wrought  an  abrupt  and  whole- 
sale destruction  of  organic  life,  and  that  the  lost  forms  were 
replaced  by  an  equally  abrupt  and  wholesale  supernatural ' 
creation  of  new  forms  at  the  beginning  of  each  new  period. 
But  as  people  ceased  to  believe  in  the  convulsions,  such  an 
explanation  began  to  seem  very  improbable,  and  it  was  com- 
pletely discredited  by  the  fact  that  many  kinds  of  plants 
and  animals  have  persisted  with  little  or  no  change  during 
several  successive  periods,  side  by  side  with  other  kinds  in 
which  there  has  been  extensive  variation  and  extinction.  It 
was  further  observed  that  between  the  forms  of  successive 
periods  in  the  same  geographical  regions  there  was  a  mani- 
fest family  likeness,  indicating  that  the  later  were  connected 
with  the  earlier  through  the  ordinary  bonds  of  physical  de- 
scent. A  host  of  facts  from  comparative  morphology  and 
embryology  went  to  confirm  this  inference ;  and  so,  when 
after  nearly  twenty  years  of  incubation  Mr.  Darwin  was 
ready  to  plant  the  seeds  of  his  remarkable  theory,  he  found 
the  soil  very  thoroughly  prepared  and  fertilized  in  which  to 
plant  them.  All  that  men  were  waiting  for  was  the  discov- 
ery of  a  vera  causa.  All  that  was  wanted  was  to  be  able  to 
point  to  some  one  agency,  similar  to  agencies  now  in  opera- 
tion and  therefore  intelligible,  which  could  be  proved  to  be 
capable  of  making  specific  changes  in  plants  and  animals. 
Mr.  Darwin's  solution  of  the  problem  was  so  beautiful,  it  has 
become  so  generally  accepted  and  so  deeply  interfused  into 
all  the  thinking  of  our  time,  it  seems  now  so  natural  and  so 
inevitable,  that  we  may  be  in  danger  of  forgetting  that  the 


The  Doctrine  of  Evolution.  441 

problem  was  really  one  of  the  most  complicated  and  abstruse 
that  the  scientific  mind  has  ever  grappled  with.  Starting 
from  the  known  experiences  of  breeders  of  domestic  animals 
and  cultivated  plants,  and  duly  considering  the  remarkable 
and  sometimes  wonderful  changes  that  are  wrought  by  the 
simple  process  of  selection,  the  problem  before  Mr.  Darwin 
was  to  detect  among  the  multifarious  phenomena  of  organic 
nature  any  agency  capable  of  accomplishing  what  man  thus 
accomplishes  by  selection.  In  detecting  the  agency  of  natu- 
ral selection,  working  perpetually  through  the  preserva- 
tion of  favored  individuals  and  races  in  the  struggle  for  ex- 
istence, Mr.  Darwin  found  the  vera  causa  for  which  men 
were  waiting.  With  infinite  patience  and  caution  he  applied 
his  method  of  explanation  to  one  group  of  organic  phenomena 
after  another,  meeting  in  every  quarter  with  fresh  and  often 
unexpected  verification.  He  had  the  satisfaction  of  living 
to  see  pretty  much  the  whole  contemporary  world  of  zoolo- 
gists, botanists,  and  palaeontologists  pursuing  the  lines  of 
investigation  which  he  had  laid  down  and  in  general  agree- 
ment as  to  the  fundamental  principle.  There  was  a  general 
acquiescence  in  natural  selection  as  an  agency  capable  of 
working  specific  changes,  while  further  speculation  and  in- 
vestigation in  all  directions  were  employed  in  ascertaining 
the  precise  character  of  its  work  and  determining  the  limits 
of  its  efficacy.  That  all  the  phenomena  of  the  organic  world 
can  be  accounted  for  by  natural  selection,  Mr.  Darwin  never 
at  any  time  supposed ;  nor  was  he  ever  so  silly  as  to  suppose 
that  all  difficulties  had  been  removed  by  himself  or  were 
likely  to  be  removed  within  a  single  generation  by  the  collect- 
ive work  of  the  whole  scientific  world.  The  present  gener- 
ation has  witnessed  a  tendency  toward  restricting  the  proba- 
ble limits  of  the  efficacy  of  natural  selection,  followed  by  an 
equally  marked  tendency  toward  enlarging  them — a  tendency 
likely  to  be  furthered  by  Mr.  "Wallace's  recent  book,  point- 
ing out  the  great  extent  of  variation  that  normally  goes  on 
within  the  limits  of  one  and  the  same  species.  Such  minor 
fluctuations  in  scientific  theory  occur  in  all  departments  of 
inquiry,  but  no  one  doubts  the  essential  soundness  of  the 
Darwinian  theory,  and  as  for  the  doctrine  of  special  crea- 
tions which  it  superseded,  we  shall  probably  go  back  to  it 
when  we  go  back  to  stone  arrow-heads  and  the  primitive 
Aryan  ox-cart,  and  not  before. 

It  has  more  than  once  been  observed  that,  when  a  new 
discovery  in  science  is  announced  to  the  world,  people  at 
30 


442  The  Doctrine  of  Evolution. 

first  scout  it  as  ridiculous  or  frown  upon  it  as  impious,  but 
afterward,  when  it  is  no  longer  possible  to  gainsay  it,  they 
suddenly  find  that  everybody  knew  all  about  it  long  ago. 
This  habit  is  probably  due  to  an  exaggerated  regard  for  con- 
sistency and  a  failure  to  realize  that  the  thoughts  of  men 
are,  and  ought  to  be,  widened  with  the  process  of  the  suns. 
About  the  origin  and  history  of  the  doctrine  of  evolution 
there  is  in  the  popular  mind  a  great  confusion  of  ideas ;  and 
this,  as  we  now  begin  to  see,  is  because  the  conception  of 
evolution  is  itself  something  which  has  grown  up  gradually. 
It  is  an  end  toward  which  the  whole  momentum  of  scientific 
thought  since  Newton's  day  has  been  tending,  yet  which  has 
been  clearly  and  fully  recognized  only  of  late  years.  As  re- 
gards Mr.  Darwin's  contribution  to  the  general  result,  it  ad- 
mits of  precise  definition.  The  doctrine  of  natural  selection, 
which  Mr.  Spencer  afterward  called  "the  survival  of  the 
fittest,"  belongs  to  Mr.  Darwin  and  to  Mr.  Wallace  as  much 
as  the  differential  calculus  belongs  to  Newton  and  Leibnitz. 
The  same  problem  was  solved  in  the  same  way,  first  by  Mr. 
Darwin,  and  then  a  dozen  years  later  by  Mr.  Wallace  in  com- 
plete ignorance  of  what  Mr.  Darwin  had  done.  "  Darwin- 
ism "  is  the  doctrine  which  maintains  that  many  different 
forms  of  animal  and  vegetable  life  have  a  common  ancestry, 
and  which  defines  and  describes  natural  selection  as  the 
chief  agent  in  bringing  about  divergencies.  Its  distinctive 
feature — that  which  constitutes  its  value  and  its  grandeur 
as  a  scientific  doctrine — is  the  discovery  and  demonstration 
of  the  agency  of  natural  selection.  No  one  anticipated  Mr. 
Darwin  in  that. 

But  the  doctrine  of  natural  selection  is  one  thing,  and 
the  doctrine  of  evolution  is  quite  another  thing.  It  covers 
much  more  ground,  and  a  good  deal  of  it  is  ground  with 
which  Mr.  Darwin  had  little  or  nothing  to  do.  Vague 
notions  of  evolution  were  in  the  air  long  before  Darwin. 
When  Emerson  speaks  of  the  worm  mounting  through  the 
various  spires  of  form,  we  are  sometimes  told  that  in  this 
and  other  similar  remarks  he  anticipated  Darwin.  But 
such  language  is  misleading.  Great  writers  might  have 
gone  on  until  the  present  moment  expressing  a  conviction 
that  higher  forms  of  life  have  been  evolved  from  lower  forms, 
but  all  that  would  have  been  of  small  avail  as  scientific  doc- 
trine until  somebody  could  show  how  it  has  been  done.  The 
belief  in  an  evolution  of  higher  from  lower  organisms  was 
held  by  a  few  eminent  men  of  science  for  a  great  part  of 


The  Doctrine  of  Evolution.  443 

the  century  preceding  Mr.  Darwin's  discovery.  It  is  a  be- 
lief that  could  not  fail  to  be  strongly  suggested  to  minds  of 
a  certain  philosophic  cast  as  soon  as  the  classification  of  plants 
and  animals  had  begun  to  be  conducted  upon  scientific  prin- 
ciples. It  is  not  for  nothing  that  a  table  of  classes,  orders, 
families,  genera,  and  species,  when  graphically  laid  out,  re- 
sembles a  family  tree.  It  was  not  long  after  Linnaeus  that 
believers  in  some  sort  of  a  development  theory,  often  fan- 
tastic enough,  began  to  appear.  Palaeontology  gave  further 
suggestions  in  the  same  direction.  When  Cuvier  brought 
palaeontology  into  alliance  with  systematic  zoology,  and  ef- 
fected his  grand  classification  of  animals  in  space  and  time, 
he  prepared  the  way  most  thoroughly  for  a  theory  of  evolu- 
tion, though  he  always  resisted  any  such  inference  from  his 
work.  He  builded  better  than  he  knew.  A  general  belief 
in  development,  as  opposed  to  special  creations,  was  held 
by  Mr.  Darwin's  distinguished  grandfather  in  England,  by 
Lamarck  and  Geoffrey  Saint-Hilaire  in  France,  and  by  Oken 
and  Goethe  in  Germany.  In  the  present  age  it  was  main- 
tained in  print  by  Herbert  Spencer  in  1852,  before  Darwin 
had  published  anything  on  the  subject. 

During  the  early  part  of  the  present  century  applications 
of  the  comparative  method  in  various  directions  were  rapidly 
educating  the  minds  of  the  younger  generation  of  students 
into  a  vague  perception  of  development  as  something  char- 
acteristic of  all  sorts  of  phenomena.  The  first  two  great 
triumphs  of  the  comparative  method  were  achieved  contem- 
poraneously in  two  fields  of  inquiry  very  remote  from  one 
another :  the  one  was  the  work  of  Cuvier  just  mentioned, 
the  other  was  the  founding  of  the  comparative  philology  of 
the  Aryan  languages  by  Franz  Bopp  in  1816.  The  work  of 
Bopp  exerted  as  powerful  an  influence  throughout  all  the  his- 
torical fields  of  study  as  Cuvier  exerted  in  biology.  The  young 
men  whose  minds  were  receiving  their  formative  impulses 
between  1825  and  1840,  under  the  various  influences  of 
Cuvier  and  Saint-Hilaire,  Lyell,  Goethe,  Bopp,  and  other 
such  great  leaders,  began  themselves  to  come  to  the  fore- 
ground as  leaders  of  thought  about  1860 — on  the  one  hand, 
such  men  as  Darwin,  Gray,  Huxley,  and  Wallace ;  on  the 
other  hand,  such  as  Kuhn  and  Schleicher,  Maine,  Maurer, 
Mommsen,  Freeman,  and  Tylor.  The  point  of  the  compara- 
tive method,  in  whatever  field  it  may  be  applied,  is  that  it 
brings  before  us  a  great  number  of  objects  so  nearly  alike 
that  we  are  bound  to  assume  for  them  an  origin  and  general 


444  The  Doctrine  of  Evolution. 

history  in  common,  while  at  the  same  time  they  present 
such  differences  in  detail  as  to  suggest  that  some  have  ad- 
vanced further  than  others  in  the  direction  in  which  all  are 
traveling;  some,  again,  have  been  abruptly  arrested,  others 
perhaps  even  turned  aside  from  the  path.  In  the  attempt 
to  classify  such  phenomena,  whether  in  the  historical  or  in 
the  physical  sciences,  the  conception  of  development  is  pre- 
sented to  the  student  with  irresistible  force.  In  the  case  of 
the  Aryan  languages  no  one  would  think  of  doubting  their 
descent  from  a  common  original;  just  side  by  side  is  the 
parallel  case  of  one  subgroup  of  the  Aryan  languages,  namely, 
the  seven  Komance  languages  which  we  know  to  have  been 
developed  out  of  Latin  since  the  Christian  era.  In  these 
cases  we  can  study  the  process  of  change  resulting  in  forms 
that  are  more  or  less  divergent  from  their  originals.  In  one 
quarter  a  form  is  retained  with  little  modification,  in  another 
it  is  completely  blurred,  as  the  Latin  metipsissimus  becomes 
medesimo  in  Italian,  but  mismo  in  Spanish,  while  in  modern 
French  there  is  nothing  left  of  it  but  meme.  So  in  Sanskrit 
and  in  Lithuanian  we  find  a  most  ingenious  and  elaborate  sys- 
tem of  conjugation  and  declension,  which  in  such  languages 
as  Greek  and  Latin  is  more  or  less  curtailed  and  alteflsd,  and 
which  in  English  is  almost  completely  lost.  Yet  in  Old 
English  there  are  quite  enough  vestiges  of  the  system  to  en- 
able us  to  identify  it  with  the  Lithuanian  and  Sanskrit. 

So  the  student  who  applies  the  comparative  method  to  the 
study  of  human  customs  and  institutions  is  continually  find- 
ing usages,  beliefs,  or  laws  existing  in  one  part  of  the  world 
that  have  long  since  ceased  to  exist  in  another  part ;  yet 
where  they  have  ceased  to  exist  they  have  often  left  unmis- 
takable traces  of  their  former  existence.  In  Australasia  we 
find  types  of  savagery  ignorant  of  the  bow  and  arrow ;  in 
aboriginal  North  America,  a  type  of  barbarism  familiar 
with  the  art  of  pottery,  but  ignorant  of  domestic  ani- 
mals or  of  the  use  of  metals;  among  the  earliest  Ro- 
mans, a  higher  type  of  barbarism,  familiar  with  iron 
and  cattle,  but  ignorant  of  the  alphabet.  Along  with 
such  gradations  in  material  culture  we  find  associated 
gradations  in  ideas,  in  social  structure,  and  in  deep-seated 
customs.  Thus,  some  kind  of  fetichism  is  apt  to  prevail  in 
the  lower  stages  of  barbarism,  and  some  form  of  polytheism 
in  the  higher  stages.  The  units  of  composition  in  savage 
and  barbarous  societies  are  always  the  clan,  the  phratry,  and 
the  tribe.  In  the  lower  stages  of  barbarism  we  see  such 


The  Doctrine  of  Evolution.  445 

confederacies  as  those  of  the  Iroquois ;  in  the  highest  stage, 
at  the  dawn  of  civilization,  we  begin  to  find  nations  imper- 
fectly formed  by  conquest  without  incorporation,  like  abo- 
riginal Peru  or  ancient  Assyria.  In  the  lower  stages  we  see 
captives  tortured  to  death,  then  at  a  later  stage  sacrificed  to 
the  tutelar  deities,  then  later  on  enslaved  and  compelled  to 
till  the  soil.  Through  the  earlier  stages  of  culture,  as  in 
Australasia  and  aboriginal  America,  we  find  the  marriage 
tie  so  loose  and  paternity  so  uncertain  that  kinship  is  reck- 
oned only  through  the  mother.  But  in  the  highest  stage  of 
barbarism,  as  among  the  earliest  Greeks,  Romans,  and  Jews, 
the  more  definite  patriarchal  family  is  developed  and  kin- 
ship begins  to  be  reckoned  through  the  father.  It  is  only 
after  that  stage  is  reached  that  inheritance  of  property 
becomes  fully  developed,  with  the  substitution  of  individual 
ownership  for  clan  ownership,  and  so  on  to  the  development 
of  testamentary  succession,  individual  responsibility  for  de- 
lict and  crime,  and  the  substitution  of  contract  for  status. 
In  all  such  instances,  and  countless  others  might  be  cited, 
we  see  the  marks  of  an  intelligible  progression,  a  line  of 
development  which  human  ideas  and  institutions  have  fol- 
lowed. But  in  the  most  advanced  societies  we  find  numer- 
ous traces  of  such  states  of  things  as  now  exist  only  among 
savage  or  barbarous  societies.  Our  own  ancestors  were  once 
polytheists,  with  plenty  of  traces  of  fetichisni.  They  were 
organized  in  clans,  phratries,  and  tribes.  There  was  a  time 
when  they  used  none  but  stone  tools  and  weapons,  when 
there  was  no  private  property  in  land,  and  no  political 
structure  higher  than  the  tribe.  Among  the  forefathers 
of  the  present  civilized  inhabitants  of  Europe  are  unmis- 
takable traces  of  human  sacrifices  and  of  the  reckoning  of 
kinship  through  the  mother  only.  When  we  have  come  to 
survey  large  groups  of  facts  of  "this  sort,  the  conclusion  is 
irresistibly  driven  home  to  us  that  the  more  advanced  socie- 
ties have  gone  through  various  stages  now  represented  here 
and  there  by  less  advanced  societies ;  that  there  is  a  general 
path  of  social  development,  along  which,  owing  to  special  cir- 
cumstances, some  peoples  have  advanced  a  great  way,  some  a 
less  way,  some  but  a  very  little  way ;  and  that,  by  studying 
existing  savages  and  barbarians,  we  get  a  valuable  clew  to  the 
interpretation  of  prehistoric  times.  All  these  things  are  to- 
day commonplaces  among  students  of  history  and  archaeology : 
sixty  years  ago  they  would  have  been  scouted  as  idle  vaga- 
ries. Yet  to  this  change  is  entirely  due  the  superior  power 


446  The  Doctrine  of  Evolution. 

of  modern  historical  methods.  Formerly  the  historian  told 
anecdotes  or  discussed  particular  lines  of  policy;  now  he 
can  do  that  as  much  as  ever,  but  he  can  also  study  nation- 
building  and  discern  some  features  of  the  general  drift  of 
events  from  the  earliest  to  the  most  recent  times. 

If  we  leave  the  earth  and  its  inhabitants  and  turn  our 
attention  to  the  starry  heavens,  we  find  plenty  of  subjects 
for  comparison  indicating  that  there  is  a  general  process 
going  on,  and  that  this  process  has  advanced  much  further 
in  some  places  than  in  others.  The  general  process  may  be 
roughly  described  as  concentration  of  cosmical  matter,  with 
dissipation  of  heat.  Along  with  this  go  sundry  attendant 
or  derivative  chemical  changes.  We  find  gaseous  nebulae ; 
stars  ranked  in  different  classes  by  their  colors,  perhaps 
indicating  different  stages  of  progress  toward  consolidation ; 
then  planets,  first  huge  ones,  like  Saturn  and  Jupiter,  with 
small  density,  tremendous  atmospherical  disturbances,  and 
probably  some  remains  of  self -luminosity ;  then  such  as 
Mars,  Earth,  and  Venus,  with  cool,  vapor-laden  atmospheres 
and  conditions  favorable  to  organic  life;  then  smaller, 
quickly  cooled  and  solidified  globes  like  our  barren  moon ; 
then  cosmic  rubbish  like  the  asteroids,  and  cosmic  dust  like 
the  meteors.  All,  of  course,  are  losing  heat.  Some  have 
cooled  too  quickly  to  allow  the  development  of  life  upon 
their  surfaces;  others  are  still  too  hot,  but  while  in  this 
stage  can  perhaps  supply  radiant  heat  and  actinism  for  the 
support  of  life  upon  their  neighbors.  Obviously  the  gaseous 
nebula,  being  a  body  in  an  earlier  stage  of  consolidation  and 
containing  a  maximum  of  internal  motion,  is  to  be  regarded 
as  something  like  what  suns  and  their  planets  were  in  a 
former  stage  of  development. 

Long  before  all  these  fruits  of  modern  astronomical  ob- 
servation had  been  gathered,  the  contemplation  of  our  sun 
as  a  consolidating  and  radiating  body  had  suggested  to  one 
of  the  most  profound  thinkers  that  ever  lived  the  famous 
nebular  hypothesis  as  an  account  of  the  mode  of  develop- 
ment of  our  planetary  system.  The  nebular  hypothesis,  set 
forth  by  Immanuel  Kant  in  1755,  was  the  first"  constructive 
work  toward  a  definite  doctrine  of  evolution.  The  theory 
was  restated  in  1796  by  Laplace,  whose  line  of  argument 
was  very  similar  to  Kant's.  Within  recent  years  it  has 
received  emendations  and  qualifications,  but  the  funda- 
mental conception  of  the  nebulous  mass  acquiring  spheroidal 
shape  through  rotation,  and  increasing  in  oblateness  until  at 


The  Doctrine  of  Evolution.  447 

some  stage  in  its  shrinkage  a  portion  of  the  equatorial  sur- 
face is  detached  as  a  ring  of  fragments  which  ultimately 
coalesce  into  a  satellite  globe — this  fundamental  conception 
still  remains  as  a  good  working  hypothesis. 

As  we  now  look  back  over  the  illustrations  here  cited — 
and  they  are,  of  course,  scanty  enough  in  comparison  with 
what  might  be  adduced — it  appears  that  about  half  a  cent- 
ury ago  the  foremost  minds  of  the  world,  with  whatever 
group  of  phenomena  they  were  occupied,  had  fallen  and 
were  more  and  more  falling  into  a  habit  of  regarding  things 
not  as  having  originated  in  the  shape  in  which  we  now  find 
them,  but  as  having  been  slowly  metamorphosed  from  some 
other  shape  through  the  agency  of  forces  similar  in  nature 
to  forces  now  at  work.  Whether  planets,  or  mountains,  or 
mollusks,  or  subjunctive  moods,  or  tribal  confederacies  were 
the  things  studied,  the  scholars  who  studied  them  most 
deeply  and  most  fruitfully  were  those  who  studied  them  as 
phases  in  a  process  of  development.  The  work  of  such 
scholars  has  formed  the  strong  current  of  thought  in  our 
time,  while  the  work  of  those  who  did  not  catch  these  new 
methods  has  been  dropped  by  the  way  and  forgotten.  And 
as  we  look  back  to  Newton's  time  we  can  see  that  ever  since 
then  the  drift  of  scientific  thought  has  been  setting  in  this 
direction,  and  with  increasing  steadiness  and  force. 

Now,  what  does  all  this  drift  of  scientific  opinion  during 
more  than  two  centuries  mean?  It  can,  of  course,  have  but 
one  meaning.  It  means  that  the  world  is  in  a  process  of 
development,  and  that  gradually,  as  advancing  knowledge 
has  enabled  us  to  take  a  sufficiently  wide  view  of  the  world, 
we  have  come  to  see  that  it  is  so.  The  old  statical  conception 
of  a  world  created  all  at  once  in  its  present  shape  was  the  result 
of  very  narrow  experience ;  it  was  entertained  when  we  knew 
only  an  extremely  small  segment  of  the  world.  Now  that 
our  experience  has  widened,  it  is  outgrown  and  set  aside 
forever;  it  is  replaced  by  the  dynamical  conception  of  a 
world  in  a  perpetual  process  of  evolution  from  one  state  into 
another  state.  This  dynamical  conception  has  come  to  stay 
with  us.  Our  theories  as  to  what  the  process  of  evolution  is 
may  be  more  or  less  wrong  and  are  confessedly  tentative,  as 
scientific  theories  should  be.  But  the  dynamical  conception, 
which  is  not  the  work  of  any  one  man,  be  he  Darwin  or 
Spencer  or  any  one  else,  but  the  result  of  the  cumulative 
experience  of  the  last  two  centuries,  this  is  a  permanent 
acquisition.  "We  can  no  more  revert  to  the  statical  concep- 


448  The  Doctrine  of  Evolution. 

tion  than  we  can  turn  back  the  sun  in  his  course.  "What- 
ever else  the  philosophy  of  future  generations  may  be,  it 
must  be  some  kind  of  a  philosophy  of  evolution. 

It  was  not  strange  that  among  the  younger  men  whose 
opinions  were  molded  between  1830  and  1840  there  should 
have  been  one  of  organizing  genius,  with  a  mind  inexhaust- 
ibly fertile  in  suggestions,  who  should  undertake  to  elabo- 
rate a  general  doctrine  of  evolution,  to  embrace  in  one  grand 
coherent  system  of  generalizations  all  the  minor  general- 
izations which  workers  in  diiferent  departments  of  science 
were  establishing.  It  is  this  prodigious  work  of  construc- 
tion that  we  owe  to  Herbert  Spencer.  He  is  the  originator 
and  author  of  what  we  know  to-day  as  the  doctrine  of  evo- 
lution, the  doctrine  which  undertakes  to  formulate  and  put 
into  scientific  shape  the  conception  of  evolution  toward 
which  scientific  investigation  had  so  long  been  tending.  In 
the  mind  of  the  general  public  there  seems  to  be  dire  con- 
fusion with  regard  to  Mr.  Spencer  and  his  relations  to  evo- 
lution and  to  Darwinism.  Sometimes,  I  believe,  he  is  even 
supposed  to  be  chiefly  a  follower  and  expounder  of  Mr. 
Darwin !  No  doubt  this  is  because  so  many  people  mix  up 
Darwinism  with  the  doctrine  of  evolution,  and  have  but  the 
vaguest  and  haziest  notions  as  to  what  it  is  all  about.  As  I 
explained  above,  Mr.  Darwin's  great  work  was  the  discovery 
of  natural  selection  and  the  demonstration  of  its  agency  in 
effecting  specific  changes  in  plants  and  animals ;  and  in  that 
work  he  was  completely  original.  But  plants  and  animals 
are  only  a  part  of  the  universe,  though  an  important  part, 
and  with  regard  to  universal  evolution  or  any  universal 
formula  for  evolution  Darwinism  had  nothing  to  say.  Such 
problems  were  beyond  its  scope.  ' 

The  discovery  of  a  universal  formula  for  evolution,  and 
the  application  of  this  formula  to  many  diverse  groups  of 
phenomena,  have  been  the  great  work  of  Mr.  Spencer,  and 
in  this  he  has  had  no  predecessor.  His  wealth  of  originality 
is  immense,  and  it  is  unquestionable.  But  as  the  most 
original  thinker  must  take  his  start  from  the  general  stock 
of  ideas  accumulated  at  his  epoch,  and  more  often  than  not 
begins  by  following  a  clew  given  him  by  somebody  else,  so 
it  was  with  Mr.  Spencer  when  about  forty  years  ago  he  was 
working  out  his  doctrine  of  evolution.  The  clew  was  not 
given  him  by  Mr.  Darwin.  Darwinism  was  not  yet  born. 
Mr.  Spencer's  theory  was  worked  out  in  all  its  parts,  and 
many  parts  of  it  had  been  expounded  in  various  published 


The  Doctrine  of  Evolution.  449 

volumes  and  essays  before  the  publication  of  The  Origin  of 


The  clew  which  Mr.  Spencer  followed  was  given  him  by 
the  great  German  embryologist  Von  Baer,  and  an  adumbra- 
tion of  it  may  perhaps  be  traced  back  through  Kaspar 
Friedrich  Wolf  to  Linnaeus.  Hints  of  it  may  be  found,  too, 
in  Goethe  and  in  Schelling.  The  advance  from  simplicity 
to  complexity  in  the  development  of  an  egg  is  too  obvious 
to  be  overlooked  by  any  one,  and  was  remarked  upon,  I 
believe,  by  Harvey ;  but  the  analysis  of  what  that  advance 
consists  in  was  a  wonderfully  suggestive  piece  of  work.  Von 
Baer's  great  book  was  published  in  1829,  just  at  the  time 
when  so  many  stimulating  ideas  were  being  enunciated,  and 
its  significant  title  was  Entwickelungsgeschichte,  or  History 
of  Evolution.  It  was  well  known  that,  so  far  as  the  senses 
can  tell  us,  one  ovum  is  indistinguishable  from  another, 
whether  it  be  that  of  a  man,  a  fish,  or  a  parrot.  The  ovum 
is  a  structureless  bit  of  organic  matter,  and  in  acquiring 
structure  along  with  its  growth  in  volume  and  mass,  it  pro- 
ceeds through  a  series  of  differentiations,  and  the  result  is  a 
change  from  homogeneity  to  heterogeneity.  Such  was  Von 
Baer's  conclusion,  to  which  scanty  justice  is  done  by  such  a 
brief  statement.  As  all  know,  his  work  marked  an  epoch  in 
the  study  of  embryology,  for  to  mark  the  successive  differ- 
entiations in  the  embryos  of  a  thousand  animals  was  to  write 
a  thousand  life-histories  upon  correct  principles. 

Here  it  was  that  Mr.  Spencer  started.  As  a  young  man 
he  was  chiefly  interested  in  the  study  of  political  govern- 
ment and  in  history  so  far  as  it  helps  the  study  of  politics. 
A  philosophical  student  of  such  subjects  must  naturally 
seek  for  a  theory  of  evolution.  If  I  may  cite  my  own  expe- 
rience, it  was  largely  the  absorbing  and  overmastering  pas- 
sion for  the  study  of  history  that  first  led  me  to  study  evo- 
lution in  order  to  obtain  a  correct  method.  When  one  has 
frequent  occasion  to  refer  to  the  political  and  social  progress 
of  the  human  race,  one  likes  to  know  what  one  is  talking 
about.  Mr.  Spencer  needed  a  theory  of  progress.  He  could 
see  that  the  civilized  part  of  mankind  has  undergone  some 
change  from  a  bestial,  unsocial,  perpetually  fighting  stage  of 
savagery  into  a  partially  peaceful  and  comparatively  humane 
and  social  stage,  and  that  we  may  reasonably  hope  that  the 
change  in  this  direction  will  go  on.  He  could  see,  too,  that 
along  with*  this  change  there  has  been  a  building  up  of 
tribes  into  nations,  a  division  of  labor,  a  differentiation  of 


450  The  Doctrine  of  Evolution. 

governmental  functions,  a  series  of  changes  in  the  relations 
of  the  individual  to  the  community.  To  see  so  much  as 
this  is  to  whet  one's  craving  for  enlarged  resources  where- 
with to  study  human  progress.  Mr.  Spencer  had  a  wide 
general  acquaintance  with  botany,  zoology,  and  allied  studies. 
The  question  naturally  occurred  to  him,  Where  do  we  find 
the  process  of  development  most  completely  exemplified 
from  beginning  to  end,  so  that  we  can  follow  and  exhaust- 
ively describe  its  consecutive  phases?  Obviously  in  the 
development  of  the  ovum.  There  and  only  there  do  we  get 
the  whole  process  under  our  eyes  from  the  first  segmenta- 
tion of  the  yolk  to  the  death  of  the  matured  individual.  In 
other  groups  of  phenomena  we  can  only  see  a  small  part  of 
what  is  going  on ;  they  are  too  vast  for  us,  as  in  astronomy, 
or  too  complicated,  as  in  sociology.  Elsewhere  our  evidences 
of  development  are  more  or  less  piecemeal  and  scattered,  but 
in  embryology  we  do  get,  at  any  rate,  a  connected  story. 

So  Mr.  Spencer  took  up  Von  Baer's  problem  and  carried 
the  solution  of  it  much  further  than  the  great  German 
naturalist.  He  showed  that  in  the  development  of  the 
ovum  the  change  from  homogeneity  to  heterogeneity  is 
accompanied  by  a  change  from  indefiniteness  to  definiteness ; 
there  are  segregations  of  similarly  differentiated  units  result- 
ing in  the  formation  of  definite  organs.  He  further  showed 
that  there  is  a  parallel  and  equally  important  change  from 
incoherence  to  coherence ;  along  with  the  division  of  labor 
among  the  units  there  is  an  organization  of  labor ;  at  first 
among  the  homogeneous  units  there  is  no  subordination — to 
subtract  one  would  not  alter  the  general  aspect ;  but  at  last 
among  the  heterogeneous  organs  there  is  such  subordination 
and  interdependence  that  to  subtract  any  one  is  liable  to 
undo  the  whole  process  and  destroy  the  organism.  In  other 
words,  integration  is  as  much  a  feature  of  development  as 
differentiation ;  the  change  is  not  simply  from  a  structure- 
less whole  into  parts,  but  it  is  from  a  structureless  whole 
into  an  organized  whole  with  a  consensus  of  different  func- 
tions— and  that  is  what  we  call  an  organism.  So  where 
Von  Baer  said  that  the  evolution  of  the  chick  is  a  change 
from  homogeneity  to  heterogeneity  through  successive  dif- 
ferentiations, Mr.  Spencer  said  that  the  evolution  of  the 
chick  is  a  continuous  change  from  indefinite  incoherent 
homogeneity  to  definite  coherent  heterogeneity  through 
successive  differentiations  and  integrations. 

But  Mr.  Spencer  had  now  done  something  more  than 


Tfie  Doctrine  of  Evolution.  451 

describe  exhaustively  the  evolution  of  an  individual  or- 
ganism. He  had  got  a  standard  of  high  and  low  degrees  of 
organization ;  and  the  next  thing  in  order  was  to  apply  this 
standard  to  the  whole  hierarchy  of  animals  and  plants 
according  to  their  classified  relationships  and  their  succes- 
sion in  geological  time.  This  was  done  with  most  brilliant 
success.  From  the  earliest  records  in  the  rocks  the  general 
advance  in  types  of  organization  has  been  an  advance  in 
definiteness,  coherence,  and  heterogeneity.  The  method  of 
evolution  in  the  life-history  of  the  animal  and  vegetal  king- 
doms has  been  like  the  method  of  evolution  in  the  life- 
history  of  the  individual. 

To  go  into  the  inorganic  world  with  such  a  formula  might 
seem  rash.  But  as  the  growth  of  organization  is  essentially 
a  particular  kind  of  redistribution  of  matter  and  motion, 
and  as  redistribution  of  matter  and  motion  is  going  on  uni- 
versally in  the  inorganic  world,  it  is  interesting  to  inquire 
whether  in  such  simple  approaches  toward  organization  as 
we  find  there  is  any  approach  toward  the  characteristics  of 
organic  evolution  as  above  described.  It  was  easy  for  Mr. 
Spencer  to  show  that  the  change  from  a  nebula  into  a  planet- 
ary system  conforms  to  the  definition  of  evolution  in  a  way 
that  is  most  striking  and  suggestive.  But  in  studying  the 
inorganic  world  Mr.  Spencer  was  led  to  modify  his  formula  in 
a  way  that  vastly  increased  its  scope.  He  came  to  see  that 
the  primary  feature  of  evolution  is  an  integration  of  matter 
and  concomitant  dissipation  of  motion.  According  to  cir- 
cumstances this  process  may  or  not  be  attended  with  exten- 
sive internal  rearrangements  and  development  of  organiza- 
tion. The  continuous  internal  rearrangement  implied  in 
the  development  of  organization  is  possible  only  where 
there  is  a  medium  degree  of  mobility  among  the  par- 
ticles, a  plasticity  such  as  is  secured  only  by  those  peculiar 
chemical  combinations  which  make  up  what  we  call  organic 
matter.  In  the  inorganic  world,  where  there  is  an  approach 
to  organization  there  is  an  adumbration  of  the  law  as  realized 
in  the  organic  world.  But  in  the  former  what  strikes  us 
most  is  the  concentration  of  the  mass  with  the  retention  of 
but  little  internal  mobility;  in  the  latter  what  strikes  us 
most  is  the  wonderful  complication  of  the  transformations 
wrought  by  the  immense  amount  of  internal  mobility 
retained.  These  transformations  are  to  us  the  mark,  the 
distinguishing  feature  of  life. 

Having  thus  got  the  nature  of  the  differences  between  the 


452  The  Doctrine  of  Evolution. 

organic  and  inorganic  worlds  into  a  series  of  suggestive 
formulas,  the  next  thing  to  be  done  was  to  inquire  into  the 
applicability  of  the  law  of  evolution  to  the  higher  manifes- 
tations of  vital  activity — in  other  words,  to  psychical  and 
social  life.  Here  it  was  easy  to  point  out  analogies  between 
the  development  of  society  and  the  development  of  an 
organism.  Between  a  savage  state  of  society  and  a  civilized 
state  it  is  easy  to  see  the  contrasts  in  complexity  of  life,  in 
division  of  labor,  in  interdependence  and  coherence  of 
operations  and  of  interests.  The  difference  resembles  that 
between  a  vertebrate  animal  and  a  worm. 

Such  analogies  are  instructive,  because  at  the  bottom  of 
the  phenomena  there  is  a  certain  amount  of  real  identity. 
But  Mr.  Spencer  did  not  stop  with  analogies ;  he  pursued 
his  problem  into  much  deeper  regions.  There  is  one  mani- 
fest distinction  between  a  society  and  an  organism.  In  the 
organism  the  conscious  life,  the  psychical  life,  is  not  in  the 
parts  but  in  the  whole ;  but  in  a  society  there  is  no  such 
thing  as  corporate  consciousness :  the  psychical  life  is  all  in 
the  individual  men  and  women.  The  highest  development 
of  this  psychical  life  is  the  end  for  which  the  world  exists. 
The  object  of  social  life  is  the  highest  spiritual  welfare 
of  the  individual  members  of  society.  The  individual  hu- 
man soul  thus  comes  to  be  as  much  the  center  of  the  Spen- 
cerian  world  as  it  was  the  center  of  the  world  of  mediaeval 
theology;  and  the  history  of  the  evolution  of  conscious 
intelligence  becomes  a  theme  of  surpassing  interest. 

This  is  the  part  of  his  subject  which  Mr.  Spencer  has 
handled  in  the  most  masterly  manner.  Nothing  in  the 
literature  of  psychology  is  more  remarkable  than  the  long- 
sustained  analysis  in  which  he  starts  with  complicated  acts 
of  quantitative  reasoning  and  resolves  them  into  their  ele- 
mentary processes,  and  then  goes  on  to  simpler  acts  of  judg- 
ment and  perception,  and  then  down  to  sensation,  and  so  on 
resolving  and  resolving,  until  he  gets  down  to  the  simple 
homogeneous  psychical  shocks  or  pulses  in  the  manifold 
compounding  and  recompounding  of  which  all  mental  action 
consists.  Then,  starting  from  that  conception  of  life  as  the 
continuous  adjustment  of  inner  relations  within  the  or- 
ganism to  outer  relations  in  the  environment — a  conception 
of  which  he  made  such  brilliant  use  in  his  Principles  of 
Biology— he  shows  how  the  psychical  life  gradually  becomes 
specialized  in  certain  classes  of  adjustments  or  correspond- 
ences, and  how  the  development  of  psychical  life  consists  in 


The  Doctrine  of  Evolution.  453 

a  progressive  differentiation  and  integration  of  such  corre- 
spondences. Intellectual  life  is  shown  to  have  arisen  by 
slow  gradations,  and  the  special  interpretations  of  reflex 
action,  instinct,  memory,  reason,  emotion,  and  will  are  such 
as  to  make  the  Principles  of  Psychology  indubitably  the 
most  suggestive  book  upon  mental  phenomena  that  was  ever 
written. 

Toward  the  end  of  the  first  edition  of  the  Origin  of  Spe- 
cies, published  in  1859,  Mr.  Darwin  looked  forward  to  a 
distant  future  when  the  conception  of  gradual  development 
might  be  applied  to  the  phenomena  of  intelligence.  But 
the  first  edition  of  the  Principles  of  Psychology,  in  which 
this  was  so  successfully  done,  had  already  been  published 
four  years  before — in  1855 — so  that  Mr.  Darwin  in  later 
editions  was  obliged  to  modify  his  statement  and  confess 
that,  instead  of  looking  so  far  forward,  he  had  better  have 
looked  about  him.  I  remember  hearing  Mr.  Darwin  laugh 
merrily  over  this  at  his  own  expense. 

This  extension  of  the  doctrine  of  evolution  to  psychical 
phenomena  was  what  made  it  a  universal  doctrine,  an  ac- 
count of  the  way  in  which  the  world,  as  we  know  it,  has 
come  to  be.  There  is  no  subject  great  or  small  that  has  not 
come  to  be  affected  by  the  doctrine,  and,  whether  men  re- 
alize it  or  not,  there  is  no  nook  or  corner  in  speculative  sci- 
ence where  they  can  get  away  from  the  sweep  of  Mr.  Spen- 
cer's thought. 

This  extension  of  the  doctrine  to  psychical  phenomena 
is  by  many  people  misunderstood.  The  Principles  of  Psy- 
chology is  a  marvel  of  straightforward  and  lucid  statement ; 
but,  from  its  immense  reach  and  from  the  abstruseness  of 
the  subject,  it  is  not  easy  reading.  It  requires  a  sustained 
attention  such  as  few  people  can  command  except  on  sub- 
jects with  which  they  are  already  familiar.  Hence  few 
people  read  it  in  comparison  with  the  number  who  have 
somehow  got  it  into  their  heads  that  Mr.  Spencer  tries  to 
explain  mind  as  evolved  out  of  matter,  and  is  therefore  a 
materialist.  How  many  worthy  critics  have  been  heard  to 
object  to  the  doctrine  of  evolution  that  you  can  not  deduce 
mind  from  the  primeval  nebula,  unless  the  germs  of  mind 
were  present  already  !  But  that  is  just  what  Mr.  Spencer 
says  himself.  I  have  heard  him  say  it  more  than  once,  and 
his  books  contain  many  passages  of  equivalent  import.*  He 

*  See,  for  example.  Principles  of  Psychology,  second  edition,  1870- "72,  vol.  ii, 
pp.  145-102. 


454  The  Doctrine  of  Evolution. 

never  misses  an  opportunity  for  attacking  the  doctrine  that 
mind  can  be  explained  as  evolved  from  matter.  But,  in 
spite  of  this,  a  great  many  people  suppose  that  the  gradual 
evolution  of  mind  must  mean  its  evolution  out  of  matter, 
and  are  deaf  to  arguments  of  which  they  do  not  perceive 
the  bearing.  Hence  Mr.  Spencer  is  so  commonly  accred- 
ited with  the  doctrine  which  he  so  earnestly  repudiates. 

But  there  is  another  reason  why  people  are  apt  to  sup- 
pose the  doctrine  of  evolution  to  be  materialistic  in  its  im- 
plications. There  are  able  writers  who  have  done  good 
service  in  illustrating  portions  of  the  general  doctrine,  and 
are  at  the  same  time  avowed  materialists.  One  may  be  a 
materialist,  whatever  his  scientific  theory  of  things  ;  and  to 
such  a  person  the  materialism  naturally  seems  to  be  a  logical 
consequence  from  the  scientific  theory.  We  have  received 
this  evening  a  communication  from  Prof.  Ernst  Haeckel, 
of  Jena,  in  which  he  lays  down  five  theses  regarding  the 
doctrine  of  evolution : 

1.  "The  general  doctrine  appears  to  be  already  unas- 
sailably  founded. 

2.  "  Thereby  every  supernatural  creation  is   completely 
excluded. 

3.  "  Transformism  and  the  theory  of  descent  are  insepa- 
rable constituent  parts  of  the  doctrine  of  evolution. 

4.  "  The  necessary  consequence  of  this  last  conclusion  is 
the  descent  of  man  from  a  series  of  vertebrates." 

So  far,  very  good ;  we  are  within  the  limits  of  scientific 
competence,  where  Prof.  Haeckel  is  strong.  But  now,  in 
his  fifth  thesis,  he  enters  the  region  of  metaphysics — the 
transcendental  region,  which  science  has  no  competent 
methods  of  exploring — and  commits  himself  to  a  dogmatic 
assertion : 

5  "  The  belief  in  an  '  immortal  soul '  and  in  '  a  personal 
God '  are  therewith  "  (i.  e.,  with  the  four  preceding  state- 
ments) "  completely  ununitable  (vdllig  unvereinbar)." 

Now,  if  Prof.  Haeckel  had  contented  himself  with  as- 
serting that  these  two  beliefs  are  not  susceptible  of  scientific 
demonstration ;  if  he  had  simply  said  that  they  are  beliefs 
concerning  which  a  scientific  man,  in  his  scientific  capacity, 
ought  to  refrain  from  making  assertions  because  Science 
knows  nothing  whatever  about  the  subject— he  would  have 
occupied  an  impregnable  position.  His  fifth  thesis  would 
have  been  as  indisputable  as  his  first  four.  But  Prof. 
Haeckel  does  not  stop  here.  He  declares  virtually  that,  if 


The  Doctrine  of  Evolution.  455 

an  evolutionist  is  found  entertaining  the  beliefs  in  a  per- 
sonal God  and  an  immortal  soul,  nevertheless  these  beliefs 
are  not  philosophically  reconcilable  with  his  scientific  theory 
of  things,  but  are  mere  remnants  of  an  old-fashioned  su- 
perstition from  which  he  has  not  succeeded  in  freeing  him- 
self. 

Here  one  must  pause  to  inquire  what  Prof.  Haeckel 
means  by  "  a  personal  God."  If  he  refers  to  the  Latin  con- 
ception of  a  God  remote  from  the  world  of  phenomena  and 
manifested  only  through  occasional  interference — the  con- 
ception that  has  until  lately  prevailed  in  the  Western  world 
since  the  time  of  St.  Augustine — then  we  may  agree  with 
him ;  the  practical  effect  of  the  doctrine  of  evolution  is  to 
abolish  such  a  conception.  But  with  regard  to  the  Greek 
conception  entertained  by  St.  Athanasius;  the  conception 
of  God  as  immanent  in  the  world  of  phenomena  and  mani- 
fested in  every  throb  of  its  mighty  rhythmical  life ;  the 
deity  that  Richard  Hooker,  prince  of  English  churchmen, 
had  in  mind  when  he  wrote  of  Natural  Law  that  "  her  seat 
is  the  bosom  of  God  and  her  voice  the  harmony  of  the 
world  " — with  regard  to  this  conception  the  practical  effect 
of  the  doctrine  of  evolution  is  not  to  abolish  but  to 
strengthen  and  confirm  it.  For,  into  whatever  province  of 
Nature  we  carry  our  researches,  the  more  deeply  we  pene- 
trate into  its  laws  and  methods  of  action,  the  more  clearly 
do  we  see  that  all  provinces  of  Nature  are  parts  of  an  or- 
ganic whole  animated  by  a  single  principle  of  life  that  is 
infinite  and  eternal.  I  have  no  doubt  Prof.  Haeckel  would 
not  only  admit  this,  but  would  scout  any  other  view  as  in- 
consistent with  the  monism  which  he  professes.  But  he 
would  say  that  this  infinite  and  eternal  principle  of  life  is 
not  psychical,  and  therefore  can  not  be  called  in  any  sense 
"  a  personal  God."  In  an  ultimate  analysis,  I  suspect  Prof. 
Haeckel's  ubiquitous  monistic  principle  would  turn  out  to 
be  neither  more  nor  less  than  Dr.  Buchner's  mechanical 
force  (Kraft).  On  the  other  hand,  I  have  sought  to  show 
— in  my  little  book  The  Idea  of  God — that  the  Infinite  and 
Eternal  Power  that  animates  the  universe  must  be  psychical 
in  its  nature,  that  any  attempt  to  reduce  it  to  mechanical 
force  must  end  in  absurdity,  and  that  the  only  kind  of 
monism  which  will  stand  the  test  of  an  ultimate  analysis 
is  monotheism.  While  in  the  chapter  on  Anthropomorphic 
Theism,  in  my  Cosmic  Philosophy,  I  have  taken  great  pains 
to  point  out  the  difficulties  in  which  (as  finite  thinkers)  we 


456  The  Doctrine  of  Evolution. 

are  involved  when  we  try  to  conceive  the  Infinite  and  Eter- 
nal Power  as  psychical  in  His  nature,  I  have,  in  the  chapter 
on  Matter  and  Spirit,  in  that  same  book,  taken  equal  pains 
to  show  that  we  are  logically  compelled  thus  to'conceive 
Him. 

One's  attitude  toward  such  problems  is  likely  to  be  de- 
termined by  one's  fundamental  conception  of  psychical  life. 
To  a  materialist  the  ultimate  power  is  mechanical  force,  and 
psychical  life  is  nothing  but  the  temporary  and  local  result 
of  "fleeting  collocations  of  material  elements  in  the  shape 
of  nervous  systems.  Into  the  endless  circuit  of  transforma- 
tions of  molecular  motion,  says  the  materialist,  there  enter 
certain  phases  which  we  call  feelings  and  thoughts ;  they 
are  part  of  the  circuit,  they  arise  out  of  motions  of  material 
molecules,  and  disappear  by  being  retransformed  into  such 
motions ;  hence,  with  the  death  of  the  organism  in.  which 
such  motions  have  been  temporarily  gathered  into  a  kind 
of  unity,  all  psychical  activity  and  all  personality  are  ipso 
facto  abolished.  Such  is  the  materialistic  doctrine,  and 
such,  I  presume,  is  what  Prof.  Haeckel  has  in  mind  when 
he  asserts  that  the  belief  in  an  immortal  soul  is  incompati- 
ble with  the  doctrine  of  evolution.  The  theory  commonly 
called  that  of  the  correlation  of  forces,  and  which  might 
equally  well  or  better  be  called  the  theory  of  the  meta- 
morphosis of  motions,  is  indispensable  to  the  doctrine  of 
evolution.  But  for  the  theory  that  light,  heat,  electricity, 
and  nerve-action  are  different  modes  of  undulatory  motion 
transformable  one  into  another,  and  that  similar  modes  of 
motion  are  liberated  by  the  chemical  processes  going  on 
within  the  animal  or  vegetal  organism,  Mr.  Spencer's  work 
could  never  have  been  done.  That  theory  of  correlation 
and  transformation  is  now  generally  accepted,  and  is  often 
appealed  to  by  materialists.  A  century  ago  Cabanis  said 
that  the  brain  secretes  thought  as  the  liver  secretes  bile. 
If  he  were  alive  to-day,  he  would  doubtless  smile  at  this  old 
form  of  expression  as  crude,  and  would  adopt  a  more  sub- 
tle phrase ;  he  would  say  that  "  thought  is  transformed  mo- 
tion." 

Against  this  interpretation  I  have  maintained  that  the 
theory  of  correlation  not  only  fails  to  support  it,  but  actu- 
ally overthrows  it.  The  arguments  may  be  found  in  the 
chapter  on  Matter  and  Spirit  in  my  Cosmic  Philosophy, 
published  in  1874,  and  in  the  essay  entitled  A  Crumb  for 
the  Modern  Symposium,  written  in  1877  and  reprinted  in 


The  Doctrine  of  Evolution.  457 

Darwinism  and  other  Essays.*  Their  purport  is,  that  in 
tracing  the  correlation  of  motions  into  the  organism  through 
the  nervous  system,  and  out  again,  we  are  bound  to  get  an 
account  of  each  step  in  terms  of  motion.  Unless  we  can 
show  that  every  unit  of  motion  that  disappears  is  trans- 
formed into  an  exact  quantitative  equivalent,  our  theory  of 
correlation  breaks  down ;  but  when  we  have  shown  this  we 
shall  have  given  a  complete  account  of  the  whole  affair 
without  taking  any  heed  whatever  of  thought,  feeling,  or 
consciousness.  In  other  words,  these  psychical  activities  do 
not  enter  into  the  circuit,  but  stand  outside  of  it,  as  a  seg- 
ment of  a  circle  may  stand  outside  a  portion  of  an  entire 
circumference  with  which  it  is  concentric.  Motion  is  never 
transformed  into  thought,  but  only  into  some  other  form  of 
measurable  (in  fact,  or,  at  any  rate,  in  theory  measurable) 
motion  that  takes  place  in  nerve-threads  and  ganglia.  It  is 
not  the  thought,  but  the  nerve-action  that  accompanies  the 
thought,  that  is  really  "  transformed  motion.'1''  I  say  that,  if 
we  are  going  to  verify  the  theory  of  correlation,  it  must  be 
done  (actually  or  theoretically)  by  measurement ;  quantita- 
tive equivalence  must  be  proved  at  every  step ;  and  hence 
we  must  not  change  our  unit  of  measurement ;  from  first 
to  last  it  must  be  a  unit  of  motion :  if  we  change  it  for  a 
moment,  our  theory  of  correlation  that  moment  collapses. 
I  say,  therefore,  that  the  theory  of  correlation  and  equiva- 
lence of  forces  lends  no  support  whatever  to  materialism. 
On  the  contrary,  its  manifest  implication  is  that  psychical 
life  can  not  be  a  mere  product  of  temporary  collocations  of 
matter. 

The  argument  here  set  forth  is  my  OAvn.  When  I  first 
used  it  I  had  never  met  with  it  anywhere  in  books  or  con- 
versation. AVhether  it  has  since  been  employed  by  other 
writers  I  do  not  know,  for  during  the  past  fifteen  years  I 
have  read  very  few  books  on  such  subjects.  At  all  events, 
it  is  an  argument  for  which  I  am  ready  to  bear  the  full 
responsibility.  Some  doubt  has  recently  been  expressed 
whether  Mr.  Spencer  would  admit  the  force  of  this  argu- 
ment. It  has  been  urged  by  Mr.  S.  H.  Wilder,  in  two  able 
papers  published  in  the  New  York  Daily  Tribune,  June  13 
and  July  4,  1890,  that  the  use  of  this  argument  marks  a 
radical  divergence  on  my  part  from  Mr.  Spencer's  own  posi- 
tion. 

It  is  true  that  in  several  passages  of  First  Principles 

*  See  also  Excursions  of  an  Evolutionist,  1883,  pp.  274-282. 
31 


458  The  Doctrine  of  Evolution. 

there  are  statements  which  either  imply  or  distinctly  assert 
that  motion  can  be  transformed  into  feeling  and  thought — 
e.  g.,  "  Those  modes  of  the  Unknowable  which  we  call  heat, 
light,  chemical  affinity,  etc.,  are  alike  transformable  into  each 
other,  and  into  those  modes  of  the  Unknowable  which  we 
distinguish  as  sensation,  emotion,  thought ;  these,  in  their 
turns,  being  directly  or  indirectly  retransformable  into  the 
original  shapes  "  (First  Principles,  second  edition,  1867,  p. 
217) ;  and  again  it  is  said  "  to  be  a  necessary  deduction  from 
the  law  of  correlation,  that  what  exists  in  consciousness  un- 
der the  form  of  feeling  is  transformable  into  an  equivalent 
of  mechanical  motion,"  etc.  (First  Principles,  second  edi- 
tion, p.  558).  Now,  if  this,  as  literally  interpreted,  be  Mr. 
Spencer's  deliberate  opinion,  I  entirely  dissent  from  it.  To 
speak  of  quantitative  equivalence  between  a  unit  of  feeling 
and  a  unit  of  motion  seems  to  me  to  be  talking  nonsense — 
to  be  combining  terms  which  severally  possess  a  meaning 
into  a  phrase  which  has  no  meaning.  I  am,  therefore,  in- 
clined to  think  that  the  above  sentences,  literally  interpreted, 
do  not  really  convey  Mr.  Spencer's  opinion.  They  appear 
manifestly  inconsistent,  moreover,  with  other  passages  in 
which  he  has  taken  much  more  pains  to  explain  his  position 
(e.  g.,  Principles  of  Psychology,  vol.  i,  pp.  158-161,  616-627). 
In  the  sentence  from  p.  558  of  First  Principles,  Mr.  Spencer 
appears  to  me  to  mean  that  the  nerve-action,  which  is  the 
objective  concomitant  of  what  is  subjectively  known  as  feel- 
ing, is  transformable  into  an  equivalent  of  mechanical  mo- 
tion. When  he  wrote  that  sentence  perhaps  he  had  not 
shaped  the  case  quite  so  distinctly  in  his  own  mind  as  he 
had  a  few  years  later,  when  he  made  the  more  elaborate 
statements  in  the  second  edition  of  the  Psychology.  Though 
in  these  more  elaborate  statements  he  does  not  assert  the 
doctrine  I  have  here  maintained,  yet  they  seem  consistent 
with  it.  When  I  was  finishing  the  chapter  on  Matter  and 
Spirit,  in  my  room  in  London  one  afternoon  in  February, 
1874,  Mr.  Spencer  came  in,  and  I  read  to  him  nearly  the 
whole  chapter,  including  my  argument  from  correlation 
above  mentioned.  He  expressed  warm  approval  of  the 
chapter,  without  making  any  specific  qualifications.  In  the 
course  of  the  chapter  I  had  occasion  to  quote  a  passage  from 
the  Psychology  (vol.  i,  p.  158 ;  cf .  Cosmic  Philosophy,  vol.  ii, 
p.  444),  in  which  Mr.  Spencer  twice  inadvertently  used  the 
phrase  "  nervous  shock  "  where  he  meant  "  psychical  shock." 
As  his  object  was  to  keep  the  psychical  phenomena  and 


The  Doctrine  of  Evolution.          „         459 

their  cerebral  concomitants  distinct  in  his  argument,  this 
colloquial  use  of  the  word  "  nervous "  was  liable  to  puzzle 
the  reader,  and  give  querulous  critics  a  chance  to  charge 
Mr.  Spencer  with  the  materialistic  implications  which  it  was 
his  express  purpose  to  avoid.  Accordingly,  in  my  quotation  I 
changed  the  word  "  nervous  "  to  "  psychical,"  using  brackets 
and  explaining  my  reasons.  On  showing  all  this  to  Mr. 
Spencer,  he  desired  me  to  add  in  a  foot-note  that  he  thor- 
oughly approved  the  emendation. 

I  mention  this  incident  because  our  common,  every-day 
speech  abounds  in  expressions  that  have  a  materialistic 
flavor ;  and  sometimes  in  serious  writing  an  author's  sheer 
intentness  upon  his  main  argument  may  lead  him  to  over- 
look some  familiar  form  of  expression  which,  when  thrown 
into  a  precise  and  formal  context,  will  strike  the  reader  in  a 
very  different  way  from  what  the  author  intended.  I  am 
inclined  to  explain  in  this  way  the  passages  in  First  Princi- 
ples which  are  perhaps  chiefly  responsible  for  the  charge  of 
materialism  that  has  so  often  and  so  wrongly  been  brought 
up  against  the  doctrine  of  evolution. 

As  regards  the  theological  implications  of  the  doctrine  of 
evolution,  I  have  never  undertaken  to  speak  for  Mr.  Spencer ; 
on  such  transcendental  subjects  it  is  quite  enough  if  one 
speaks  for  one's  self.  It  is  told  of  Diogenes  that,  on  listen- 
ing one  day  to  a  sophistical  argument  against  the  possibility 
of  motion,  he  grimly  got  up  out  of  his  tub  and  walked  across 
the  street.  Whether  his  adversaries  were  convinced  or  not, 
we  are  not  told.  Probably  not ;  it  is  but  seldom  that  adver- 
saries are  convinced.  So,  when  Prof.  Haeckel  declares  that 
belief  in  a  "  personal  God  "  and  an  "  immortal  soul "  are  in- 
compatible with  acceptance  of  the  doctrine  of  evolution,  I 
can  only  say,  for  myself — however  much  or  little  the  per- 
sonal experience  may  be  worth — I  find  that  the  beliefs  in 
the  psychical  nature  of  God  and  in  the  immortality  of  the 
human  soul  seem  to  harmonize  infinitely  better  with  my 
general  system  of  cosmic  philosophy  than  the  negation  of 
these  beliefs.  If  Prof.  Haeckel,  or  any  other  writer,  prefers 
a  materialistic  interpretation,  very  well.  I  neither  quarrel 
with  him  nor  seek  to  convert  him ;  but  I  do  not  agree  with 
him.  I  do  not  pretend  that  my  opinion  on  these  matters  is 
susceptible  of  scientific  demonstration.  Neither  is  his.  I 
say,  then,  that  his  fifth  thesis  has  no  business  in  a  series  of 
scientific  generalizations  about  the  doctrine  of  evolution. 

Far  beyond  the  limits  of  what  scientific  methods,  based 


460  The  Doctrine  of  Evolution. 

upon  our  brief  terrestrial  experience,  can  demonstrate,  there 
lies  on  every  side  a  region  with  regard  to  which  Science  can 
only  suggest  questions.  As  Goethe  so  profoundly  says : 

"  Willst  du  ins  Unendliche  streiten, 
Geh'  nur  im  Endlichen  nach  alien  Seiten."  * 

It  is  of  surpassing  interest  that  the  particular  generalization 
which  has  been  extended  into  a  universal  formula  of  evolu- 
tion should  have  been  the  generalization  of  the  development 
of  an  ovum.  In  enlarging  the  sphere  of  life  in  such  wise  as 
to  make  the  whole  universe  seem  actuated  by  a  single  prin- 
ciple of  life,  we  are  introduced  to  regions  of  sublime  specu- 
lation. The  doctrine  of  evolution,  which  affects  our  thought 
about  all  things,  brings  before  us  with  vividness  the  concep- 
tion of  an  ever-present  God — not  an  absentee  God  who  once 
manufactured  a  cosmic  machine  capable  of  running  itself 
except  for  a  little  jog  or  poke  here  and  there  in  the  shape  of 
a  special  providence.  The  doctrine  of  evolution  destroys  the 
conception  of  the  world  as  a  machine.  It  makes  God  our 
constant  refuge  and  support,  and  Nature  his  true  revelation ; 
and  when  all  its  religious  implications  shall  have  been  set 
forth,  it  will  be  seen  to  be  the  most  potent  ally  that  Chris- 
tianity has  ever  had  in  elevating  mankind. 

*  ["  If  thou  wouldst  press  into  the  infinite,  go  but  to  aU  parts  of  the  finite."] 


The  Doctrine  of  Evolution.  ,        461 


ABSTRACT   OF  THE   DISCUSSION. 

/- 

MB.  STARE  HOYT  NICHOLS: 

In  opening  the  discussion  of  the  able  lecture  of  Prof.  Fiske,  per- 
mit me  to  express  the  great  delight  with  which  I  have  listened  to 
his  clear  and  cogent  exposition  of  the  principles  of  the  evolutionary 
philosophy,  and  of  the  triumph  of  those  principles,  now  thoroughly 
assured,  within  a  marvelously  brief  space  of  time.  No  intelligent 
person,  I  think,  now  doubts  the  facts  upon  which  the  doctrine  of  evo- 
lution is  based  in  the  physical  world  and  in  biology.  No  one  doubts 
that  the  world  has  had  a  natural  beginning;  has  been  evolved  out  of 
pre-existing  material  by  the  action  of  laws  that  are  still  operating ;  that 
it  has  reached  its  present  state  of  relative  perfection  by  the  operation 
of  similar  natural  laws ;  that  in  a  like  manner  all  forms  of  vegetable 
and  animal  life  have  come  into  being,  have  developed  and  differen- 
tiated into  diverse  species,  obedient  to  discovered  and  discoverable 
laws.  Few  doubt  at  the  present  day  that  man  has  had  a  similar 
natural  origin  and  life-history.  It  is  only  when  we  come  to  discuss 
the  origin  and  history  of  the  mind  that  we  find  doubters — whose 
doubts,  it  appears  to  me,  are  not  solved  by  the  introduction  of  the 
philosophical  theory  of  the  unknowable.  We  should  not  forget  that 
the  doctrine  of  evolution  is  itself  in  process  of  evolution.  We  have 
yet  much  to  learn  about  it,  to  discover  many  new  applications  of  its 
principles.  So  wonderful  has  been  our  progress  in  knowledge,  follow- 
ing this  clew  which  Darwin  and  others  have  placed  in  our  hands,  that 
it  seems  to  me  imprudent  to  say  of  any  of  the  problems  which  reason 
proposes  to  the  human  mind :  "  Their  answer  is  insolvable ;  they  belong 
to  the  realm  of  the  unknowable."  Herein,  perhaps,  I  should  differ 
with  Mr.  Spencer,  and  with  the  lecturer  of  the  evening,  whose  works 
I  have  read  with  much  profit  and  delight 

DB.  ROBEBT  G.  ECCLES: 

I  do  not  agree  with  the  last  speaker  in  his  expectation  that  we  can 
ever  get  along  without  the  unknowable.  The  expression  of  such  an 
expectation  seems  to  me  to  be  an  evidence  of  a  failure  to  comprehend 
the  philosophic  basis  on  which  the  doctrine  rests.  As  long  as  the 
human  mind  is  finite,  as  its  attributes  are  limited,  real  existence, 
external  to  itself,  must  forever  be  unknowable  in  its  essential  charac- 
ter. It  can  only  be  known  symbolically,  as  conditioned  by  the  limita- 
tion of  our  knowing  faculties.  It  is  impossible  to  conceive  mind  as 


462  The  Doctrine  of  Evolution. 

evolved  from  any  mode  of  motion.  Motion  can  only  beget  motion ;  it 
is  not  transformable  into  thought.  The  psychic  force  must  exist 
fundamentally,  coextensive  with  what  we  term  matter.  It  can  not  be 
conceived  that  at  any  particular  stage  of  material  evolution  mind  steps 
in. ""  The  two  are  obverse  sides  of  one  unknowable  reality.  For  every 
motion  there  must  be  a  corresponding  psychical  process.  The  two 
can  not  be  divorced.  The  unknowable  and  the  knowable  are  each 
infinite  and  parallel  aspects  of  the  universal  life. 

MB.  THADDEUS  B.  WAKEMAN  (condensed) : 

We  all  wish  to  express  in  words  the  hearty  applause  which  closed 
this  admirable  lecture.  It  is  one  of  the  author's  happiest  descriptions 
of  the  origin  and  progress  of  the  great  modern  rising  of  human 
thought  which  we  name  in  the  now  sacred  word  Evolution. 

For  two  thirds  of  this  lecture,  hearty  thanks !  For  the  latter  third, 
thanks — with  leave  to  dissent  from  the  agnostic  position  taken  as  to 
the  consciousness,  mind,  soul,  etc.  Such  dissent  would  surely  come 
from  all  phases  of  the  positive  and  monistic  schools  of  thought,  and 
it  deserves  earnest  attention. 

The  lecturer  quoted  some  words  from  Goethe,  but  the  words  from 
that  great  monist  which  his  lecture  recalled  to  me  were  those  of  the 
grand  confession  in  Faust : 

"  Nun  ist  die  Luf  t  von  solchem  Spuk  so  voll," 
[Now  fills  the  air  so  many  a  haunting  spook,] 

and  ending : 

"  Wenn  Geister  spuken,  Geh'  er  seinen  Gang." 
[When  ghosts  spook,  let  man  go  straight  on  his  way.] 

Now,  the  trouble  is  that  our  distinguished  lecturer,  instead  of  fol- 
lowing this  sound  advice  of  Goethe  and  getting  us  clearly  out  of  the 
old  spookdom,  has  left  the  air  as  black  as  night  with  it.  Certainly  the 
best  use  that  can  be  made  of  ten  minutes  now  is  to  indicate,  if  pos- 
sible, some  way  out  of  this  night  of  the  "  unknowable  "  into  the  clearer 
day  of  "  reason's  brightness." 

Fortunately,  our  lecturer  has  just  dropped  the  clew  to  guide  our  way 
out  in  those  other  precious  monistic  lines  from  Goethe's  Spruche, 
which  he  and  we  can  never  quote  too  often : 

"  Willst  du  ins  Unendliche  streitent 
Geh'  nur  im  Endlichen  nach  alien  Seiten." 
[Into  the  infinite  wouldst  thou  stride  ! 
Go  into  the  finite  only  on  every  side.] 


The  Doctrine  of  Evolution.  463 

These  lines  give  no  quarter  to  agnosticism.  They  are  the  essence 
of  monistic  positivism.  They  say  that  the  infinite  world  is  but  the 
continuation  of  the  knowable  correlations  of  the  finite,  and  that 
there  is  no  conceivable  way  out  of  that  unending  circle  of  "  eternal 
brazen  laws  "  of  cause  and  effect ;  that  there  is  no  "  thing  in  itself,"  or 
outside  itself,  but  that  every  transaction  is  a  fact  and  a  reality  all  the 
way  and  forever !  Prof.  Haeckel  in  his  letter  read  here  to-night  says 
that  such  is  the  verdict  of  evolution. 

Our  agnostic  friends  seem  unable  or  unwilling  to  have  this  great 
4i  mystery  "  of  the  nature  of  mind  explained.  They  keep  telling  us 
that  if  feeling  is  not  a  space-motion-force  correlate  it  must  be  some 
indescribable  kind  of  power,  entity,  or  spook.  But  the  monist  says : 
No ;  it  is  not  such  at  all,  but  simply  the  fact-side  of  nervous  changes 
noted  by  the  organism.  The  continued  repetition  of  such  notation  is 
a  process,  called  awareness,  feeling,  consciousness,  etc.  This  new  fact 
of  awareness  is  simply  the  time  correlation  of  the  mechanical  and 
chemical  force  correlations,  for  facts  are  only  measurable  in  and  by 
time,  by  which  some  of  them  are  distinguished  from  others.  This 
fact  of  awareness  of  the  changes  in  and  about  the  nervous  system  is 
simply  feeling-time,  for  time  at  bottom  is  only  feeling.  That  is  the 
fact  made  by  one  change  contrasted  with  others,  as  before,  after,  or 
together  with  them.  The  comparative  easiness  of  repeated  processes 
gives  rise  to  memory  and  forms,  which  are  the  foundations  of  intel- 
lectual life,  and  finally  reason  and  the  whole  data  of  psychology  re- 
sult. But  all  these  facts  of  feeling  are  simply  the  event-side  of  the 
nerve-changes,  and  no  mystery  unless  we  wish  to  make  them  so.  If 
we  are  simply  scientists  we  may  be  positivists  or  monists,  but  not 
materialists,  or  atheists,  or  agnostics,  or  spookists.  If  we  bottom 
on'the  fact,  as  Goethe  says  in  the  opening  of  Faust  (line  880),  not  on 
the  Word,  or  the  Thought,  or  the  Power,  but  the  Fact,  we  shall  have 
a  sure  bottom  to  our  mental  and  all  other  philosophy. 

We  have  banished  the  spook  from  every  other  of  the  sciences.  Now 
let  us  get  it  out  of  our  own  heads ;  that  is  to  say,  out  of  the  science  of 
modern  psychology. 

This  subjective  time-process-correlation  will  sustain  Religion,  God, 
The  Christ,  Immortality,  and  Ethics  far  better  than  the  old  illusions. 
How,  I  have  said  in  the  Haeckel  lecture,  and  need  not  repeat.  But 
also  remember  that  Prof.  Haeckel  in  his  letter  read  to-night  only  re- 
fers to  the  nothingness  of  the  old  spook  forms  of  a  "  personal  God  and 
immortality  "  as  wholly  incompatible  with  evolution.  The  modern 
monistic  scientific  realities,  which  underlie  and  make  true  those  fun- 
damental words  of  all  religion,  he  would  doubtless  assert  and  defend 
as  bravely  as  any  one  in  proper  time  and  place. 


464  The  Doctrine  of  Evolution. 

We  must  learn,  however,  to  courageously  translate  the  old  entical 
and  illusory  into  the  new  and  scientific  conceptions  of  the  soul. 
"  There  is  no  wisdom  save  in  Truth." 

DR.  LEWIS  G.  JANES  : 

In  listening  to  remarks  like  those  of  Mr.  Wakeman,  and  especially 
in  reading  the  letter  of  Prof.  Haeckel,  it  is  strongly  impressed  upon 
me  that  one  may  be  admirably  qualified  to  discuss  the  physical  and 
biological  processes  involved  in  the  doctrine  of  evolution,  and  yet,  by 
reason  of  want  of  training  in  the  science  of  psychology,  may  wholly 
fail  to  grasp  the  logic  of  its  higher  problems.  The  question  of  the 
nature  of  knowledge  is  fundamentally  one  of  psychology.  Is  the 
human  mind  unlimited  in  its  scope  and  powers,  or  are  its  functions 
conditioned  by  inherent  limitations  I  Is  thought  identical  with  things, 
or  are  mental  and  physical  processes  essentially  disparate?  Mental 
science  re-enforces  the  teachings  of  common  sense  by  assuring  us  that 
our  human  faculties  are  finite  and  limited ;  that  the  external  reality  is 
not  directly  presented  in  the  mind,  but  symbolically  represented. 
Such  is  the  necessary  inference  from  the  facts  involved  in  the  process  of 
mental  evolution — such  the  only  logical  and  scientific  conclusion  from 
the  study  of  the  nature  of  sense-perception  and  knowledge.  It  follows, 
therefore,  by  an  inexorable  logic,  that  we  know  the  universe  only  as 
it  is  related  to  our  finite  faculties.  Our  knowledge  of  the  world  is 
conditioned  by  our  psychical  nature  and  its  limitations.  Both  matter 
and  mind  are  thus  known  to  us  as  symbols — as  phenomena  of  an  un- 
knowable reality  of  the  existence  of  which  we  are  assured  by  a  funda- 
mental necessity  of  thought.  The  conception  of  this  reality  constitutes 
the  only  logical  basis  of  philosophical  Monism,  consistent  with  the  con- 
cepts and  facts  of  psychological  science.  The  symbols  are  knowable, 
whether  they  be  mental  or  physical.  Mr.  Wakeman  erroneously  assumes 
that  the  agnostic  regards  mind  as  unknowable.  There  is  no  "  mystery  " 
in  regard  to  the  nature  of  mind  which  is  not  equally  affirmable  of  the 
nature  of  matter.  The  reality  underlying  both  is  unknowable  in  its 
essential  nature ;  as  phenomenal  processes  both  are  equally  knowable. 
This  is  the  Spencerian  doctrine  of  the  unknowable,  so  often  and  need- 
lessly befogged  and  misunderstood.  This  is  what  is  meant  by  the 
relativity  of  our  knowledge.  Another  necessity  of  thought  compels 
the  belief  that  this  supreme  reality,  the  nature  of  which  transcends 
our  finite  capacity  of  comprehension,  must  be  infinitely  greater  and 
not  less  than  our  human  personality.  It  can  not  be  material  in  its 
nature,  since  matter  is  subordinate  to  our  finite  mental  faculties.  It 
must  be  not  only  supermaterial  but  superpersonal— a  mode  of  being 
which,  as  Mr.  Spencer  declares,  "transcends  human  personality  as 


The  Doctrine  of  Evolution.         %  465 

much  as  that  transcends  a  plant's  functions."  These  convictions  are 
forced  upon  us  by  logical  necessities  of  thought.  They  are  the  com- 
mon property  of  all  who  have  completely  thought  out  the  problems 
involved  in  this  discussion.  Their  inference  from  the  admitted  facts 
of  psychological  science  follows  by  an  inexorable  law.  The  philosophy 
of  evolution  as  expounded  by  Mr.  Spencer  and  Mr.  Fiske  can  have 
no  quarrel  with  dogmatic  materialism,  or  the  soi-disant  objective 
monism  of  our  friend  Wakeman,  since  they  can  not  meet  upon  a  mu- 
tual plane  of  thought.  The  one  rests  on  the  proved  and  admitted 
facts  of  psychological  science  as  interpreted  by  strictly  logical  infer- 
ences. The  other  ignores  both  the  facts  and  the  logic,  making  its  ulti- 
mate appeal  to  the  crude,  uncorrected  data  of  immediate  sense-im- 
pressions. If  any  one  can  derive  any  consistent  and  rational  idea 
from  Mr.  Wakeman's  talk  about  "feeling-time,"  and  feeling  being 
"  the  fact-  or  event-side  of  nervous  changes  " — as  if  these  changes  were 
not  themselves  "  facts  "  or  "  events  " — he  is  more  fortunate  than  myself. 
Our  friend  should  take  his  own  advice  and  "  bottom  on  fact  "—not 
on  "  words,  words,  words,"  which  have  a  learned  sound,  but  convey  no 
intelligible  meaning. 

MR.  S.H.  WILDER: 
May  I  be  permitted  to  ask  a  question! 

THE  PRESIDENT: 

Certainly;  you  may  ask  the  lecturer  any  question  you  desire— only 
please  state  it  briefly. 

MR.  WILDER  (to  Mr.  Fiske) : 

Is  not  the  doctrine  of  the  passages  which  you  have  quoted  from 
First  Principles,  and  which  you  have  stated  to  be,  if  literally  inter- 
preted, "  untrue,  and,  in  fact,  nonsense,"  the  doctrine  taught  by  Mr. 
Spencer  throughout  two  thirds  of  that  book,  and  which  you  have  de- 
nominated materialism! 

MR.  FISKE: 

There  may  doubtless  be  other  passages  besides  those  which  I  have 
quoted  which,  literally  interpreted,  would  imply  materialistic  ideas. 
For  reasons  which  I  have  already  given,  however,  I  do  not  think  that 
these  passages,  so  interpreted,  express  Mr.  Spencer's  matured  opinion. 
When  he  wrote  these  passages  he  probably  had  not  thought  out  the 
questions  involved  as  thoroughly  as  he  did  subsequently,  and,  using 
language  in  a  somewhat  free  and  popular  way,  he  did  not  see  what  in- 
ferences might  be  drawn  from  such  modes  of  expression. 


466  The  Doctrine  of  Evolution. 

MR.  WILDER: 

If  you  remove  these  passages,  based  as  they  are  on  the  doctrine  of 
the  persistence  of  force,  or  change  their  phraseology,  what  becomes  of 
Mr.  Spencer's  system  of  philosophy  ? 

MR.  PISKE: 

I  think  the  synthetic  philosophy  would  thereby  be  strengthened 
and,  in  fact,  rendered  impregnable  by  removing  its  only  vulnerable 
feature. 

LETTER  FROM  HERBERT  SPENCER. 

Besides  the  letter  from  Prof.  Haeckel,  the  substance  of  which  is 
quoted  in  Prof.  Piske's  lecture,  the  following,  from  Mr.  Spencer,  was 
read  by  the  President : 

LONDON,  N.  W.,  May  4, 1891. 

DEAR  DR.  JANES  :  In  old  times  persecuting  priesthoods  were  content 
if  a  so-called  heretic  would  recant  and  say  he  agreed  with  them. 
Whether  he  did  at  heart  accept  their  belief  was  a  matter  of  indiffer- 
ence so  long  as  he  outwardly  conformed  and  professed  the  belief. 
These  tactics  have  in  our  days  been  inverted.  Defenders  of  the  estab- 
lished creed,  no  longer  able  now  to  produce  apparent  agreement  by 
force,  exaggerate  as  much  as  they  can  the  disagreement,  so  as  to  make 
their  antagonists  hateful.  Persistently  ascribing  to  them  views  they 
do  not  hold,  they  thus  furnish  themselves  with  weapons  of  offense ; 
and  they  find  the  weapons  so  convenient  and  effective  that  no  proof 
that  they  are  false  weapons  will  make  them  desist  from  using  them. 

I  have  had  to  rebut  the  charge  of  materialism  times  too  numerous 
to  remember,  and  I  have  now  given  the  matter  up.  It  is  impossible 
to  give  more  emphatic  denial  or  assign  more  conclusive  proof  than  I 
have  repeatedly  done,  as  you  know.  My  antagonists  must  continue  to 
vilify  me  as  they  please ;  I  can  not  prevent  them.  Practically  they 
say:  " It  is  convenient  to  us  to  call  you  a  materialist,  and  you  shall  be 
a  materialist  whether  you  like  it  or  not." 

In  my  earlier  days  I  constantly  made  the  foolish  supposition  that 
conclusive  proofs  would  change  beliefs.  But  experience  has  long  since 
dissipated  my  faith  in  men's  rationality. 

Sincerely  yours, 

SPENCER. 


INDEX. 


INDEX. 


ABBOT,  DB,  FRANCIS  ELLINGWOOD,  on  the  scientific  method,  61-75. 

Abiogenesis,  198,  199,  240. 

Adler,  Prof.  Felix,  his  school  of  philosophy  and  applied  ethics,  77. 

Agassiz.  Prof.  Louis,  231.  232  ;  his  classification  of  animals,  209. 

Albertus  Magnus,  his  botanical  researches,  176. 

Alchemy,  as  related  to  chemistry,  126. 

Alfred  Russel  Wallace,  3-17. 

Alhazen,  his  contribution  to  optics,  263. 

Alleman.  Dr.  L.  A.  W.,  on  optics  as  related  to  evolution,  263-284 ;  in  reply  to 
criticisms,  294. 

Allen,  Grant,  on  the  color  sense,  250 ;  as  determined  by  sexual  selection,  252. 

Allen,  Dr.  Joseph  Henry,  on  the  growth  of  philosophical  systems,  78. 

Amazon,  Wallace's  discoveries  on  the,  4. 

Ambrose,  his  contributions  to  musical  development,  389. 

Anderson,  his  chemical  discoveries,  141. 

Antiseptics,  142, 143. 

Arago,  159. 

Archaeology,  as  related  to  evolution,  443-415. 

Architecture,  beginnings  of.  305  ;  Gothic,  origin  of,  303,  322,  338  ;  evolution  of, 
321-342  :  of  Egypt.  325-328.  329.  330,  331.  333  ;  Doric  and  Ionic,  329-332  :  Roman, 
331-334  ;  composite,  333 ;  Byzantine,  335  ;  Moorish,  336-337  ;  American,  339, 
341-342. 

Argyll,  the  Duke  of,  his  Reign  of  Law  criticised  by  A.  R.  Wallace.  7. 

Aristotle,  prefigures  natural  selection,  104 ;  his  idea  of  chemistry.  126 ;  opposed 
by  the  Epicureans,  130,  131';  his  botanical  researches,  175  ;  his  classification 
of  animals,  205-206  ;  his  views  on  the  development  of  human  faculties,  345. 

Art,  evolution  of,  297-318  ;  Byzantine,  367.  (See  Architecture,  Sculpture,  Paint- 
ing, and  Music.) 

Astigmatism,  270-271. 

Atomic  theory,  130-140. 

Australia,  its  faunae  studied  by  A.  R,  Wallace,  8. 

Avogadro,  his  atomic  studies,  131-133  ;  confirmation  of  his  law,  133, 147. 

BACON,  FRANCIS,  154. 

Bach,  Sebastian,  his  influence  on  musical  development.  393,  396-397, 401. 

Bad  times,  A.  R.  Wallace  on,  10. 

Bain,  Alexander,  his  psychology,  57.  58. 

Barry  on  the  evolution  of  art  in  Greece,  365-366. 

Bartley,  Dr.  E.  H.,  on  the  evolution  of  chemistry,  149. 

Bauhin,  John,  his  work  on  botany,  177. 

Beckner,  on  phlogiston,  127. 

Beethoven,  398. 

Bell,  Alexander  Graham,  his  telephone,  161. 

Bergmann,  his  invention  of  the  blow-pipe,  129. 

Berkeley,  Bishop,  his  idealism,  85. 

Berzelius,  his  chemical  researches,  131, 132. 

Black,  his  discovery  of  carbonic  acid.  127. 

Bopp,  Franz,  his  work  on  comparative  philology,  443. 

Boroughs,  Norman,  on  the  mariner's  compass,  154. 

Bossuet,  on  universal  history,  435. 

Botany,  evolution  of.  173-195  ;  as  related  to  form  and  color,  247-250. 

Boughton,  William  H.,  in  criticism  of  Herbert  Spencer,  118-119. 


470  Index. 

Brock  way,  Albert  L.,  on  the  evolution  of  architecture,  341-343. 
Bruno,  Giordano,  his  philosophy,  38  ;  his  scientific  faith,  42. 
Bttchner,  Dr.  Ludwig,  his  theory  of  mechanical  force,  455. 
Buffon,  206  ;  his  evolutionary  views,  207-208. 
Bunsen,  his  spectroscopic  studies,  135. 
Byron,  Lord,  45. 

CALCAREOUS  SPONGES,  Haeckel  on,  27. 

Canton,  his  discovery  of  electrical  conduction,  156. 

Carlyle,  Thomas,  on  man,  416. 

Carpenter,  Dr.  William  B.,  on  the  genesis  of  intuitions,  91,  92. 

Carus,  Dr.  Paul,  on  monism,  33,  and  note ;  his  agnosticism,  37  ;  his  Fundamental 

Problems,  33  note,  38  note. 

Cavendish,  his  chemical  discoveries,  129  ;  his  electrical  researches,  156,  157. 
Chadwick,  Rev.  John  W.,  on  Dr.  F.  E.  Abbot's  philosophy,  78-79  ;  on  art,  297  ;  on 

the  evolution  of  architecture,  321-340  ;  in  reply  to  criticism,  342. 
Chemistry,  evolution  of,  125-148. 
Christianity,  its  zoological  symbolism,  204  ;  as  related  to  evolution,  223-227,  229, 

230  ;  its  influence  on  art,  306-309,  323,  355,  367-369,  372-377,  380  ;  on  music,  389, 

392-394  ;  its  law  of  liberty,  434  ;  the  doctrine  of  evolution  its  ally,  460. 
Civilization,  as  affecting  the  human  eye,  279-280,  291-293. 
Clerk-Maxwell,  his  electrical  researches,  157  ;  his  theory  of  light,  167. 
Clusius,  his  botanical  researches,  177-178. 
Collateral  readings,  2,  20,  60,  60,  84, 124,  152,  172,  202,  234,  262,  2%,  320,  344,  362,  382, 

406,434. 

Color,  nature  of,  236-237. 
Color-sense,  how  developed,  281-284,  290-291. 
Comte,  Auguste,  his  ecclesiasticism.  32  note  ;  his  positive  philosophy,  33,  42,  43  ; 

his  views  on  sociology  and  politics,  45  ;  his  unscientific  spirit,  105. 
Consciousness,  not  a  property  of  matter,  35  ;  correlated  with  physical  changes, 

36 ;  Herbert  Spencer's  conception  or,  50-53  ;  as  related  to  external  things, 

957104  ;  probabilities  of,  after  death,  115  ;  its  relation  to  brain  acting,  456-459. 
Contributions  to  the  theory  of  natural  selection,  5. 
Cope,  Dr.  Edward  D.,  on  Alfred  Russel  Wallace,  3-17 ;  mentioned  by  William 

Potts,  245. 

Copernicus,  42,  43,  437. 
Correlation  and  conservation  of  forces,  34. 
Coulomb,  his  electrical  researches,  156-157. 
Cowperthwait,  J.  Howard,  on  the  Puritan  influence,  317-318. 
Crookes,  his  chemical  researches,  136. 
Cuvier,  his  contributions  to  zoology,  206-207. 

DAI/TON,  his  law  of  multiple  proportions,  129-130, 147  ;  his  atomic  theory,  132, 139. 

Darwin,  Charles,  207  ;  his  co-discovery  with  Wallace  of  the  law  of  natural  selec- 
tion. 4-5  ;  his  theory  defended  by  Wallace.  8-10  ;  his  neglect  of  the  origin  of 
variations,  11-12  ;  compared  with  A.  R.  Wallace,  16-17 ;  his  career  and  dis- 
coveries, 21  ;  his  commendation  of  Haeckel,  26-27 ;  his  attitude  toward 
philosophy,  31  ;  on  Herbert  Spencer,  91  ;  his  contribution  to  zoology,  209  ;  on 
sexual  selection.  •„>:>•.>  253  ;  on  the  evolution  of  the  eye,  271  ;  on  the  evolution 
of  music,  387 ;  his  theory  of  natural  selection,  440-442 ;  his  relation  to  the 
doctrine  of  evolution,  442-443. 

Darwin,  Erasmus,  105,  208,  443. 

Darwinism.  Wallace's  work  on,  8-10,  441 ;  as  related  to  zoology,  212 ;  to  the  doc- 
trine of  evolution,  442,  443. 

Davidson,  Prof.  Thomas,  on  the  evolution  of  sculpture,  345-356. 

Davy,  Sir  Humphry,  his  chemical  discoveries,  128,  129  ;  his  electrical  researches, 
159  ;  his  carbon  arc-light,  161. 

Dawson,  Sir  William,  his  criticism  of  Darwinism,  228. 

De  Candolle,  his  botanical  researches,  186. 

Democritus,  his  atomic  theory,  130. 

Denslow,  Prof.  Van  Buren,  his  criticism  of  Herbert  Spencer,  108 ;  replied  to  by 
B.  F.  Underwood,  108, 109. 

Depression  of  trade,  A.  R.  Wallace  on,  10. 

Des  Cartes,  Rene,  42,  86. 

Dickerman,  Lysander.  on  the  art  of  Egypt,  357-358  ;  referred  to  by  Dr.  Janes,  380. 

Doctrine  of  evolution,  its  scope  and  influence,  435-466. 

Du  Bois-Reymond,  on  Spencer's  reconciliation  of  intuition  and  experience,  92. 

EATON,  PROP.  AMOS,  his  contribution  to  botanical  science,  191. 

Eccles,  Dr.  Robert  G.,  in  reply  to  T.  B.  Wakeman,  50-51 ;  in  criticism  of  Dr.  F.  E. 


Index.  471 

Abbot,  80;  on  Herbert  Spencer's  philosophy,  119-121  ;  on  the  rotation  of 
chemistry.  125-148;  on  electric  and  magnetic  physics,  166-168:  on  botanical 
evolution.  196  ;  on  fqrm  and  color,  259  ;  on  optical  evolution,  233-2W  ;  in  de- 
fence  of  Tolstoi.  317. 


Eimer.  Prof.  TheodorTbls  Neotemarckism,  12  ;  on  the  inheritance  of  acquired 


Electric  and  magnetic  physics,  evolution  of,  153-163. 

Embryology.  Ernst  Haeckel  on,  25,  26;  as  related  to  zoology,  213  ;  to  the  doctrine 

of  evolution,  449. 
Emerson.  Ralph  Waldo,  quoted  by  William  Potts,  258  ;  his  approval  of  Watt 

Whitman.  317  ;  on  reading,  425  :  his  intuition  of  scientific  truths.  430  ;  his 

evolutionary  views,  442. 
Evolution,  of  man.  27:  of  chemistry,  125-148  ;  of  electric  and  magnetic  physics, 

153-163  ;  of  botany,  175M»Tor  ioology.  203-232  ;  of  optics/aW-Sl  -P  ofart^ 


-  ,  :  of  sculpture,  3i5-359Tofamng,  ; 

of  music,  385-W8  ;  its  philosophy  of  We,  407-431  ;  scope  and  influence  of  its 


.       -  ,       - ,       -.       -.       - 

294;  of  invertebrates,  274;  of  insects.  274-275;  of  vertebrates,  276-277 :  atrophy 
of,  278, 287-288;  adaptations  of ,  289-290 ;  effect  of  emulation  on,  291^92. 


Fatiofas 

FTchte,  his  ideJsm!  91. 

Rske.  Prof.  John,  criticised  by  T.  B.  Wakeman.  32.  462-164  :  his  cosmism  .  41  : 

his  relation  to  monism,  44  ;  on  Kant's  philosophy.  93-94  ;  on  the  doctrine  of 

evolution,  its  scope  and  influence,  485-436;  in  reply  to  critiasmg.  4g  4ML 
Force,  correlation  ofV34;  Herbert  Spencer's  conception  of  .  101.106:  vital  force 

not  a  scientific  conception,  150;  as  related  to  electricity,  153,  156  ;  conserva- 

tion of  .  as  related  to  materialism,  456-459. 
Form  and  color  in  Nature,  235-260. 
Franklin,  Benjamin,  his  electrical  discoveries,  155-156. 
Freedom  in  Science  and  Teaching,  28,  33,  46. 

GiUIJCO.42. 

Ga^ani,  his 


ed-.  157-158. 


J.,  on  Ernst  HaeckeL 
.ration.  4» 


MR, 


Goethe,  his  relation  to  Ernst  HaeckeL  23.  24.  38,  42 :  his  pantheism,  39.  41 :  his 
poetic  genius,  40;  his  scientific  investigations,  42 :  his  letter  from  Dornberg 
Castle,  24,  46 ;  his  monism.  38.  47,  57  This  views  on  mind  and  matter,  52 :  his 
evolutionary  views,  105;  his  botanical  studies,  188 ;  his  study  of  the  vertebrae. 
208 :  on  die  object  of  life.  416 :  his  sonnet  on  art  and  Nature.  427-428 :  his 
poetic  perception  of  truth.  430;  his  idea  of  the  Infinite,  460,  462. 

Gothfc  architecture,  its  origin,  308,  322. 

Gould,  Dr.  George  M.,  fate  theory  of  the  color^nse,  281-W4,  »0-W1 ;  on  the  evo- 
lution of  the  eye,  285-289 ;  on  the  eye  and  avilization.  290-233. 

Gray,  Stephen,  bis  discovery  of  electrical  induction.  154, 156. 

Greece,  its  art.  301 ;  its  architecture,  329-332 ;  its  sculpture,  350-354 ;  ite  painting. 

Green,  Thomas  HflTl  12. 


.Til  ii  Til  ii  in.  li  in  111  ij  lit  ITi  i  iilM^liliilfi  mill  .11:  his  life  and  work, 
;  his  youth  and  early  researches.  23-23:  his  vovage  to  Oeylon.  23-24  :  his 
works,  25-29  ;  his  philosophy  and  retigiaB.  tt-«  ;  1Mb  genealogr  of  man.  213  : 
his  theory  of  abiogenesisrMO  ;  his  theses  on  evotation.454Tn1b>  materialism 
crHdMlv^B'WDa;4M^B';dBtaBdBAlvlBLVUBMM.4»4M;<9. 


posed  by  Dr.  L.  G.  Janes.  464. 
Hamilton.  Sir  Wffliam,  on  the  relativity  of  knowledge,  103. 
Handel,  his  contributions  to  musical  d^veJopment.  3B6-387. 
Harrison,  Frederic,  nis  dncassion  wfth  Herbert  Spencer,  38  note,  44-58. 
Hegel,  nis  tr 


Hooker.  Dr.  Joseph  D..  his  relation  to  Darwin  and  Wallace,  4 ;  his  attitude  tow- 
ard philosophy.  31. 

:  doctrine  of,  47. 


472  Index. 

Hume,  David,  his  skeptical  philosophy,  85-87,  92. 

,;,  hi'is.m  Dr  William  M..  on  the  therapeutic  uses  of  electricity,  168-169. 

Huxley  Prof.  Thomas  H.,  his  views  on  human  evolution,  20  ;  his  introduction  to 
Haeckel's  Freedom  in  Science  and  Teaching,  28,  33  ;  his  attitude  toward 
philosophy,  31  ;  his  agnosticism,  37  ;  on  sense-perception,  96  ;  on  the  nature 
of  phenomena,  99  ;  on  Herbert  Spencer,  105. 

IDEALISM,  defended  by  Prof.  William  James,  57  note  ;  refuted  by  Dr.  F.  E.  Abbot, 

Oil;-'-  (i^tVn.i.-d   l)\   Kcv.  Th.-odore  C.  Williams,  79-80;  Bishop  Berkeley  on, 
95  ;  Hume's  relation  to,  86  ;  Kant's  judgment  of,  89  ;  Spencer's  relation  to,  95 

IlesfGeorge,  on  the  scientific  method,  76-78. 

Intuition,  how  Spencer  accounts  for  its  genesis  93-95. 

JAMES,  PROF.  WILLIAM,  on  consciousness  as  related  to  brain-action,  35  note ; 

Janes  Dr  Lewis  G  on  A.  R.  Wallace,  17  ;  on  Ernst  Haeckel,  52-53  ;  on  original 
scientific  research,  197-198  ;  on  abiogenesis,  198  ;  on  zoological  evolution,  231; 
on  sense-perception,  259-260  ;  on  realism  in  art,  316-317  ;  on  the  evolution  of 
art  358-359  ;  on  symbolism  in  art,  380  ;  on  life  as  a  fine  art,  407-428  ;  in  reply 
to  criticisms,  430-433  ;  in  criticism  of  Prof.  Haeckel  and  T.  B.  Wakeman, 

Jussieu,  his  classification  of  plants,  186. 

KANT,  IMMANL-EL,  his  theory  of  knowledge,  68  ;  his  philosophy  as  related  to  that 
of  Hume  and  Spencer,  87-95,  118  ;  his  position  as  a  thinker,  120  ;  his  nebular 
hypothesis  as  related  to  evolution,  446-447. 

KenneUy.  Arthur  E.,  on  electric  and  magnetic  physics,  153-163. 

Kimbalf,  Rev.  John  C.,  on  zoological  evolution,  203-227  ;  his  essay  on  the  evolu- 
tion of  arms  and  armor,  246-247. 

Kirchhoff,  his  invention  of  the  spectroscope,  135,  437. 

Kolliker,  Prof.,  an  instructor  of  Ernst  Haeckel,  22 ;  a  co-worker  with  Haeckel,  23. 

Koran,  its  influence  on  art,  371. 

LAMARCK,  JEAN,  his  doctrine  of  descent,  5  ;  Wallace's  opposition  to,  12  ;  the  Neo- 
lamarckians,  13  ;  his  contributions  to  biology,  42, 43  ;  his  anticipation  of  Dar- 
winism, 105  ;  his  views  on  inheritance,  208  ;  his  development  theory,  443. 

Land  nationalization,  A.  R.  Wallace  on,  10. 

Lankester,  Prof.  Ray,  his  Neolamarckian  views,  12. 

La  Place,  his  nebular  hypothesis,  446,  447. 

Lavoisier,  his  chemical  researches,  128-129,  147. 

Leibnitz,  his  philosophy,  86,  89,  90. 

Lewes,  George  Henvy,  on  phenomena,  99  ;  his  alleged  materialism,  112. 

Life  as  a  fine  art,  407^31. 

Light,  as  related  to  color,  236-237  ;  its  influence  on  organic  development.  242  ;  as 
related  to  vision,  242-243  ;  Newton's  theory  of,  264  ;  the  wave-theory  of,  264- 
266  ;  physiology  of,  267  ;  as  related  to  the  color-sense,  281-283,  290-291. 

Linnaeus,  compared  with  Prof.  Haeckel,  22  ;  his  botanical  studies,  183-184 ;  his 
contributions  to  zoology,  206-207. 

Littlefield,  John  H.,  on  the  evolution  of  painting,  379. 

Lubbock,  Sir  John,  on  flower-fertilization,  247  ;  on  the  evolution  of  the  eye,  272  ; 
on  prehistoric  art,  364  ;  on  learning,  425. 

Lucretius,  his  atomic  theory,  130  ;  his  evolutionary  ideas,  207. 

Lyell,  Sir  Charles,  his  relation  to  Darwin  and  Wallace,  4  ;  on  human  evolution, 
26  ;  his  attitude  toward  philosophy,  31 ;  his  influence  on  geological  science, 


MAGNETIC  PHYSICS,  153-163. 

Maine,  Sir  Henry,  his  contributions  to  history,  436. 

Malaysia,  Wallace's  explorations  in,  3-4. 

Malthusianism,  Darwin's  relations  to.  5. 

Martin,  T.  C.,  on  electric  and  magnetic  physics,  165-166. 

Mason,  Prof.  Otis  T.,  on  the  decline  of  plant  life,  197. 

Materialism,  Ernst  Haeckel's  relation  to,  &3,  35,  52-53  ;  Dr.  P.  H.  Van  der  Weyde 
on,  50  ;  criticised  by  Dr.  R.  G.  Eccles,  51  ;  wrongly  charged  against  Herbert 
Spencer,  112-113,  457-459  ;  defended  by  W.  H.  Bough  ton,  119  ;  a  delusion  of 
the  senses,  410  ;  refuted  by  John  Fiske,  454-460. 

Maudsley,  Dr.  Henry,  his  psychology,  57-58  ;  on  the  external  reality,  100. 

Mendelejeff  on  atomic  weights,  134. 


Index.  473 

Merwin,  Prof.  Almon  G.,  on  life  as  a  fine  art,  429. 

Michelangelo,  his  immortal  genius,  306 ;  characteristics  of  his  art,  368  ;  his  in- 
fluence on  French  art,  369  ;  his  figures  draped,  372  ;  his  secular  tendencies, 
375  ;  his  anatomical  studies,  415. 

Mill,  James,  91. 

Mill,  John  Stuart,  his  rule  of  logic,  40  ;  his  philosophy,  91. 

Monism,  Ernst  Haeckel's  relation  to,  31,  33  ;  nature  of  objective  monism,  32,  33- 
35  ;  its  American  advocates,  33 ;  Goethe's  relation  to,  37,  38,  42,  45,  47  ;  its 
theological  implications,  38,  44-50  ;  Spencer's  philosophy  of  agnostic  monism, 
52-53. 

Montgomery,  Dr.  Edmund,  on  Immanuel  Kant,  87  ;  on  Spencer's  reconciliation 
of  transcendentalism  and  experientialism,  92. 

Morals,  as  related  to  art,  316,  377-378 ;  final  evolution  of,  427  ;  Spencer's  theory 
of,  431. 

Morphology,  Ernst  Haeckel  on,  25-27  ;  of  plants,  188-189  ;  as  related  to  zoology, 
213  ;  discussed  by  William  Potts.  237  et  seq. 

Muller,  Johannes,  Haeckel's  indebtedness  to,  22  ;  his  co-worker,  23. 

Myopia,  its  nature  and  cause,  269-270. 

NATURAL  HISTORY  OP  CREATION,  27. 

Natural  selection,  its  discovery  by  Darwin  and  Wallace,  4-5, 16  ;  emphasized  by 

Wallace  in  "Darwinism,"  8-10,  17,  245,441  ;  Prof.  Owen's  connection  with, 

104 ;  Darwin's  title  to  its  discovery,  105,  210-212,  440-442. 
Nebular  hypothesis  as  related  to  evolution,  446-447. 
Neodarwinism,  12,  15,  245. 
Neolamarckism,  12,  15,  244-246. 
Newman,  Cardinal,  on  the  Church,  323. 
Newton,  Sir  Isaac,  31 ;  on  the  atomic  theory,  130  ;  his  electrical  researches,  154  ; 

his  contributions  to  optics,  263-265  ;  his  astronomical  discoveries,  437,  438. 

OERSTED,  his  electrical  discoveries,  159, 160. 
Ohm,  his  electrical  measurements,  160,  161. 

Oken,  Prof.,  his  contributions  to  biology,  42;  on  protoplasm,  208;  on  develop- 
ment, 443. 
Ontogeny,  213. 
Optics,  evolution  of,  263-294. 

Origin  of  species.  9,  209,  212.  213,  214,  222,  440-443,  449. 
Owen,  Prof.  Richard,  on  natural  selection,  104  ;  on  comparative  anatomy,  209. 

PAINTING,  evolution  of,  363-380. 

Peckham,  Prof.,  on  the  color-sense  in  wasps,  250  ;  on  sexual  selection,  252  ;  on 
the  courtship  of  spiders,  254. 

Perrin,  Raymond  S.,  in  reply  to  Dr.  F.  E.  Abbot.  81  :  on  Herbert  Spencer's  phi- 
losophy, 118  ;  criticised  by  Dr.  Eccles,  120-121  :  by  John  A.  Taylor,  121. 

Phelps,  George  M..  on  electric  and  magnetic  physics,  164-165. 

Phidias,  his  contributions  to  art,  301,  352,  353,  354. 

Philology,  comparative,  as  related  to  evolution,  443-444. 

Plato,  on  Egyptian  art,  365. 

Pliny,  173-174. 

Potts,  William,  on  form  and  color  in  nature,  235-258  :  in  reply  to  criticisms,  260  ; 
on  realism  in  art,  317  ;  on  the  evolution  of  music,  402  ;  on  automatic  func- 
tions, 430. 

;ley,  Dr.,  his  discovery  of  oxygen,  128  ;  his  persecution,  129. 
litive  types  of  man.  444-445. 
:tor,  Prof.  Richard  A.,  on  Herbert  Spencer,  115-116. 

Progress,  law  of,  110. 

Protista.  26,  27. 

Protoplasm,  34. 

Psychology,  as  related  to  zoology,  213  ;  to  the  philosophy  of  Herbert  Spencer, 
453^60,464-466. 

QUAKERS,  color-blindness  among,  284. 

REALISM,  Spencer's  doctrine  of,  98  ;  in  art,  310.  312,  315,  316,  317,  318. 

Romanes,  George  J.,  his  optical  researches,  273. 

Rundell,  Forrest  P.,  on  the  evolution  of  painting,  363-378  ;  in  reply  to  criti- 
cisms, 380. 

Ruskin,  John,  on  America,  804  ;  on  painting.  370  ;  on  art  and  morals,  377-378 ;  on 
music,  383. 

32 


474  Index. 

SAINT-HILAIRE,  GEOFFROY,  on  the  influence  of  environment,  208  ;  his  development 

Sampson,  Z.  Sidney,  on  the  evolution  of  art,  315  ;  on  the  evolution  of  music,  385- 
400  ;  in  reply  to  criticisms,  402-403. 

Schelling,  his  transcendental  realism,  91. 

Schopenhauer,  his  philosophy,  91. 

Schurmann,  Prof.,  on  the  nature  of  reality,  408. 

Sculpture,  evolution  of,  345-359. 

Sea-drift  studies,  Haeckel's,  30  note. 

Sense-perception,  nature  of,  241. 

Skilton,  James  A.,  on  botanical  evolution,  197  ;  on  zoological  evolution,  228-230. 

Sociology,  Comte's  contributions  to,  43  ;  Spencer's  relation  to,  48  ;  as  related  to 
zoology,  213  ;  its  psychical  foundation,  452. 

Solipsism.  66,  69-70,  79. 

Spencer,  Herbert,  on  the  origin  of  instincts,  6 ;  criticised  by  A.  R.  Wallace,  9  ; 
his  Neolamarckism,  12  ;  his  doctrine  of  the  Unknowable,  31,  32,  37,  38,  52-53  ; 
on  the  relation  of  consciousness  to  brain-action,  36  ;  his  discussion  with 
Frederic  Harrison,  38  note,  44,  56  ;  his  synthetism,  41  ;  his  attitude  to  mo- 
nism, 44,  52-53  ;  his  indebtedness  to  Comte  asserted,  48  ;  his  philosophy  ex- 
pounded by  B.  F.  Underwood,  85-117  ;  his  contributions  to  biology,  209  ;  on 
the  evolution  of  the  eye,  272  ;  on  the  origin  of  art,  309,  315  ;  on  architectural 
types,  321-322  ;  his  data  of  ethics,  431  ;  his  early  belief  in  evolution,  443  ;  his 
formula  of  evolution,  448,  450,  451  ;  his  early  studies,  449-450  ;  his  psychology, 
452-454  ;  his  doctrine  not  materialistic,  112,  113,  457-460,  464-4CG  ;  his  letter  to 
the  Ethical  Association,  466. 

Spinoza,  his  monism,  38  ;  his  idea  of  God,  422. 

Spiritualism,  A.  R.  Wallace's  belief  in,  10,  16-17  ;  its  phenomena  questioned,  38. 

Spontaneous  generation,  198,  199. 

Sterner,  Lawrence  E.,  on  the  evolution  of  painting,  380  ;  on  the  evolution  of  mu- 
sic, 401. 

Sumner,  Charles,  on  art,  304. 

Swedenborgianism,  A.  R.  Wallace's  relation  to,  11. 

Symonds,  John  Aldington,  on  Walt  Whitman,  317  ;  on  the  doctrine  of  evolution, 
417  ;  on  mind  in  nature,  424. 

Synthetic  Philosophy,  Herbert  Spencer's,  85-121. 

TAINE,  HIPPOLYTE,  on  the  evolution  of  art,  305  ;  his  theory  of  progress  in  art,  370  ; 

on  the.  object  of  art,  415-416. 
Taylor,  John  A.,  on  Herbert  Spencer's  philosophy,  121  ;  on  the  evolution  of  art, 

297-314  ;  in  reply  to  criticisms,  318. 
Thales  of  Miletus,  125,  153. 
Thompson,  Daniel  Greenleaf,  on  the  unknown  reality,  113  ;  on  a  future  life,  115  ; 

on  modern  realism  in  art,  315-316. 
Thomson,  Sir  William,  his  chemical  researches,  135  ;  his  judgment  of  the  storage 

battery,  143. 

Treviranus,  his  evolutionary  views,  187-188. 
Tropical  nature,  8. 
Troubadours,  393-394. 
Tyndall,  Prof.  John,  on  consciousness  and  brain  action,  35  ,  on  the  region  beyond 

sense-perception,  114  ;  on  optics,  263. 

UNDERWOOD,  BENJAMIN  F.,  on  Herbert  Spencer's  philosophy,  85-117  :  in  reply  to 
criticisms,  121. 

Unknowable,  Spencer's  conception  of,  31,  32,  37,  38,  52-53.  56,  57,  98  ;  Kant's  be- 
lief in,  98 ;  explained  by  B.  F.  Underwood,  112  ;  by  D.  G.  Thompson,  113. 

VAN  DER  WEYDE,  Dr.  P.  H.,  on  Haeckel's  theory  of  human  evolution,  50  ;  on  the 
evolution  of  chemistry,  149-150  ;  on  zoological  evolution,  231-232. 

Virchow,  Prof.  Rudolph,  his  discussion  with  Prof.  Haeckel,  22,  28,  29,  33. 

Volta,  his  discovery  of  the  Voltaic  pile,  158. 

Voltaire,  47  ;  on  the  unity  of  history,  435. 

Von  Baer,  on  evolution.  104 ;  on  embryology,  208 ;  his  relation  to  Herbert  Spencer's 
philosophy,  449-150. 

WAGNER,  RICHARD,  his  school  of  music.  396. 

Wakeman,  Thaddeus  B.,  on  A.  R.  Wallace,  16-17  ;  on  Ernst  Haeckel,  21-49  ;  in 
reply  to  criticisms,  53-58  ;  in  criticism  of  Fiske  and  Spencer,  462-464. 

Wallace,  Alfred  Russel,  his  personal  appearance,  3,  16  ;  his  voyage  to  Malaysia, 
6-4,  8  :  his  relation  to  the  theory  of  natural  selection,  4-5.  442,  443  ;  his  con- 
tributions to  this  theory,  5-6 ;  his  criticism  of  the  Duke  of  Argyll,  7  ;  his 


Index.  475 

works,  8-10 ;  his  religious  views,  10  ;  his  work  reviewed  and  criticised.  11-15, 

16-17  ;  on  human  evolution,  26  ;  his  spiritualistic  views.  10,  16,  17,  31,  32,  38  ; 

his  theory  of  evolution,  210.  244  ;  on  the  development  of  the  color-sense,  252  ; 

on  the  efficacy  of  natural  selection,  441. 
Walther,  August,  on  the  evolution  of  music,  401-402. 
Warner,  Ellsworth,  on  the  care  of  the  eye,  294  ;  on  the  relation  of  art  to  morals, 

316. 

Weissmann,  Prof.,  on  the  inheritance  of  acquired  characters,  12-13, 17,  245-246. 
Westbrook,  Dr.  Richard,  on  zoological  evolution,  231. 
Whitman,  Walt,  his  method  criticised,  310,  318  ;  defended,  316-317. 
Wilder.  S.  H.,  his  criticism  of  Herbert  Spencer,  457 ;  answered  by  John  Fiske, 

457-459  :  his  questions  to  Mr.  Fiske,  465,  466  ;  Mr.  Fiske's  replies,  465,  466. 
Williams,  Rev.  Theodore  C..  in  criticism  of  Dr.  F.  E.  Abbot,  79-80. 
Woltmann,  on  Egyptian  art,  364-365. 
Wordsworth,  40,  45. 
Wulling,  Frederick  J.,  Ph.  G.,  on  the  evolution  of  botany,  173-195. 

YOUMAXS.  PROF.  EDWARD  L.,  his  Correlation  and  Conservation  of  Forces,  34  ;  on 

Herbert  Spencer,  105,  116. 

Youmans.  Miss  Eliza  A.,  her  botanical  text-book,  196. 
Young,  Dr.  Thomas,  his  contributions  to  science,  265  ;  to  optics,  265-266,  280. 

ZOOLOGY,  as  related  to  evolution,  203-232. 
Zoroaster,  his  influence  on  art,  355. 
Zola,  310,  316,  317. 


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This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below 


2  6  1956' 


J(JN  2  01988 


OCf  -272004 


AA   001 


177536    8 


UNIVERSITY  of  CALIFORNT? 

:GELES 

ARY 


